


The Prince's Slave

by pterawaters



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Child Abuse, Drama, M/M, Puck's mom is not a nice person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1273345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Prince Kurt's sixteenth birthday approaches, all he really wants is a friend, someone who accepts his oddities and spends time with him anyway. He thinks the answer is a slave, but gets much more than he was looking for when he buys Noah Puckerman at auction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Slave

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the au_bigbang over at livejournal in 2011. Previously published [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7279477/1/The-Prince-s-Slave). Thanks so much to Animegirl23 for beta reading.

"...don't care about your excuses, Sir Lenny," the King bellowed, eyes twitching over to watch his younger son enter the hall over the shoulder of the no good knight standing in front of him, "just get it done! You know what? I'm sending Prince Finn to supervise, got it? I expect a fair day's work for the huge sums of the peoples' money I'm paying you to get this bridge built, Len!"

"Yes, Your Highness," the man shivered, wringing his hat in his hands. "I'll be delighted to have Prince Finn's help."

"Yeah, get outta here," Burt muttered, waving the man away and waiting until he had left and closed the doors before greeting his son, "Kurt, my boy! Aren't you supposed to be in lessons?"

"Oh, I was," Kurt nodded, playing with the hem of his ornate sleeve. Burt didn't understand the boy's obsession with clothing, but he looked much more the young Prince, waiting to be king, than his older brother Finn did. Finn was prone to wearing his Lima tunic, with the coat of arms in proud display, more often than not. Then Kurt put on his pouting face, which was completely unfair, and drawled out, "Faaaathhhherrrr?"

"What do you want, son?" the king sighed, rubbing at the headache forming behind his eyes with one tired hand.

"Remember when you got Finn that horse for his sixteenth birthday?"

"Like it was yesterday," Burt confirmed, wondering where his son was going with this.

"And how you got him that expensive sword the next year? And that ring he gave to Princess Quinn the year after?" Kurt had been speaking far too sweetly for Burt to trust his intentions, and looked over at Will, his steward and right-hand man. Will shrugged, so he must not have known what Kurt was after either.

Burt would just have to sigh again and ask, "Is this about your birthday next week? Sixteen is a big year, Kurt. You can join the guard," Kurt rolled his eyes, and yeah Burt knew his younger son was never going to be the soldier his older son had grown into. "You can choose to apprentice with Will to learn more of the details of state," Kurt rolled his eyes again, so Burt went for the long shot and said, "You could get married..."

"Dad," Kurt complained, "you know that's not going to happen. I thought we already had this conversation!"

Burt shrugged and rubbed his temples again, "It's just the bishop wants to make sure, if something happens to Finn and his kid doesn't make it, that the line of succession is clear. You have a duty to this country, Kurt."

Pursing his lips in a gesture so reminiscent of his late mother that Burt almost laughed, Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. "How about if you give me the present I want," Kurt said carefully, looking up at Burt through his eyelashes, "I ask Lady Brittany to marry me. We're good friends, and-"

"And she's too daffy to complain about your affections falling elsewhere?" Burt surmised, the tiniest bit amused at the surprise that flashed across his son's face. "So, what's this present you want? More of that godforsaken expensive silk?"

"No, nothing like that," Kurt insisted, taking a piece of parchment out from behind his back and unfolding it before stepping onto the first stair of Burt's dais and handing it over. The parchment was an advertisement for an auction to take place the following morning. "A slave auction?" the king asked, bewildered. Burt detested the idea of one person owning another, since he had been beholden to the state since birth, but he hadn't been able to outlaw the practice either – not without losing some of his earls to the neighboring kingdom of Carmel. "Kurt, you of all people know how I feel about this!"

Eyes downcast, Kurt nodded and said, "I know. It's just…I just want a year. A year with a companion who can't decide to spend his time with the other boys, who act more like boys. Please, father? I'll set him free after a year, by my word."

"A year with someone who will resent you," Burt scoffed, "and try to kill you in your sleep. How would you feel if the tables were turned and Lady Sue was able to buy you at auction? Wouldn't you hate her for it?"

"I'm nothing like Lady Sue!" Kurt cried, that fire of his temper surfacing finally. Burt hated when his son pretended it wasn't there and let others walk all over him. He was a Hummel, damn it. Second in line for the throne. Burt knew that his son had a spine, probably one even stronger than Finn's, but Kurt had yet to let anyone outside the family see it. "I'll be kind to him, I swear. I'll explain to him that he's free after a year, and then his heart will swell with gratitude and he'll love me for it, Father!"

"I think you're overestimating the power of the human heart, son," Burt sighed, resolutely ignoring the way Kurt's hands clenched tightly and his cheeks flushed.

"Father," Kurt said, his voice lower than usual and deadly serious, "if you don't let me do this, I will never marry. I know you're on shaky ground with Bishop Figgins, and one more straw – such as my refusal to marry and possibly my seducing his right hand, Brother David – and you're looking at full-on revolt. You can't afford that, Father."

Clenching his jaw, Burt tried to tell himself that the fact that Kurt could manipulate him like this spoke well for his future role as a leader of their country, but mostly he just felt pissed off. He knew Brother David had a strange obsession for his son, and he knew that Kurt had been rightfully rejecting the young man's affections for the past few months, but he never considered Kurt would acquiesce to breaking the rules of decorum so thoroughly just to make Burt cave to his demands. "Gods, kid," Burt sighed, scratching under his crown. "I didn't realize you were that starved for affection."

Kurt pursed his lips again before nodding sharply and saying, "I am. Compelling the other young nobles into spending time with me has done nothing, and you know it, not to mention the fact that Finn hates me and is too busy with his new wife and  _your_  new wife to let me show him I'm not some sort of devil."

Burt's heart broke at that admission. His sons had gotten along most of their lives, relying on each other especially when their mother died trying to give birth to their younger sister who died as well, but ever since Brother David started showing an interest in Kurt, Finn had grown more and more distant, letting that wife of his whisper into his ear about chastity and the Gods' will. Burt's house had been breaking for months and not even his recent marriage to Lady Carole had brought the family together. Finn loved the woman, taking to her right away and confiding in her when he felt he couldn't speak to Burt (not that Carole didn't tell him everything anyway). Kurt on the other hand seethed with jealousy at Carole's place in Burt's life, clinging to the memory of his mother and making a fuss whenever Carole tried to do something innocuously nice, like redecorate the parlor.

The Bishop complained that Burt had chosen to remarry an older woman, a widow, instead of some young thing who could give him more children, but Burt had married for love, just as he had the first time. It killed him that his younger son didn't love Carole as well. His snippy attitude at the dinner table and his subtle moves to undermine Carole's presence in their lives had to end.

Maybe this … this detestable  _auction_  … was the way to go.

"Fine," Burt agreed. "But you'll have a price limit. And try to find someone recently enslaved. A from-birther would never understand you were trying to help him. Hell, he might not want to be freed and resent you for implying it."

Kurt creased his brow like he couldn't quite understand that mindset, but nodded all the same. "Yes, Father."

"Before you go, Will can draw up a contract between you and this servant, to make sure you give him up on the eve of your seventeenth birthday. He'll also go with you to help preserve your identity. I won't have it made public that our house indulges in slavery, Kurt. Not after all the speeches I've made against the practice to the earls. If there's one thing I can afford even less than losing the Bishop's favor, it's being branded a hypocrite."

Nodding as he looked off to the side, Kurt added, "Not with Lady Sue on your heels and Princess Quinn in her back pocket. If Finn gets boosted up onto the throne now, before he's ready…" Burt hated the way his son's voice trailed off ominously, but he knew the boy was right.

"You got it, kid." Burt wanted to tell Kurt that he would rather have Kurt on the throne, even at not-quite-sixteen than to give up his crown to Finn.

The boy was sweet-willed, good-hearted, and a strong leader, but he had yet to make up his own mind about anything, always looking to others for their opinions. That was no way to rule, and he made sure Finn knew it. His greatest hope was that when the time came, Finn would be old enough to have pulled his head out of his ass and that Kurt wouldn't have to stage a coup against his own brother and take the crown of Lima into more practical, strong-willed hands. Even if those hands couldn't give a rat's ass about women or about how that made him look to most men, men who would know exactly what to do with a woman in his bed and would gladly do so.

Burt loved his son, exactly the way he was, and Kurt reminded him so much of his late wife that it struck him as eerie more often than not, but he couldn't ignore the way the bishop watched, sneering, as Kurt walked across the throne room with that lilt in his step. Burt couldn't ignore the contempt many of the earls felt for his son and he couldn't ignore the dark eyes Brother David sported whenever Kurt was in the room. Good gods, Burt needed a nap.

* * *

Noah couldn't believe it. His own mother was selling him! When he woke up shackled, he thought it was a joke, or maybe that he'd found his way into some housewife's bed and she'd wanted to play a game with him. He never suspected his mother, the traitorous bitch, would sell him for drinking money. Sell him at  _auction_ , no less!

Technically, until the day he turned sixteen, it was Ruth's right to sell him off as she saw fit, but he never thought she would do it, especially not a week before he was finally free. Oh, god! What about his little sister, Sarah? Would Ruth end up selling her, too? Or would she drink herself to death, making sure Sarah ended up a slave anyway?

Noah had grown up hearing horror stories about other kids, friends of friends, who got orphaned and then sold at auction to bad men, greedy men, evil men. He heard talk about being forced to work in mines and in rich people's houses, having to eat dog food and sleep in the stable, instead of in a real bed. But, he'd also heard talk of being made to work the fields, being given a decent meal twice a day and getting to sleep in the bunkhouses and the masters not caring how they spent their nights or with who.

Noah prayed that this sort of master would be the one to buy him – the lazy, kind master, the master who might not keep an eye out and who would be easy to escape from. If Noah Puckerman was any kind of man, seven days short of being one, he was his own man, just like his father. He was freeborn and he was going to die that way too, if he had anything to say about it.

As it was, Noah had never been so angry and so embarrassed in his entire life, feeling the hot burn of shame on his cheeks when the auction master stood before him and set a price, staining a mark on his chest and nodding to the big beefcakes that had pulled Noah, shouting and kicking against his shackles, from his home. "Fucking bastards," Noah whispered, knowing if he said it too loud, beefcake number one would just punch him in the junk again.

Then Noah was pushed into a room and told to stay there, the heavy door closing and bolting behind him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Hey," a girl's voice said softly, turning Puck's head toward her. As he began to be able to focus, he saw a robust girl, about his age, with exotically dark skin. She sat on the edge of her wooden chair, a cup of something warm and steaming held carefully in her hands. "I'm Mercedes, who are you?"

"No one," he replied angrily, shuffling further into the room and glaring at the six or seven other slaves there on his way to the loneliest corner.

"Well aren't you mister high and mighty?" a boy asked in a nasally voice Noah quickly identified as coming from the guy with the fuzzy red hair. The boy laughed, "Thinks he's not a slave like the rest of us!"

"Lay off him, Jacob," a second girl demanded, turning her back on the boy and giving Noah a smile. She was beautiful, in a way Noah appreciated anyway. She looked like one of his people, with her proud nose and her long, dark hair, and it made Noah soften toward her. Until he realized exactly how much she looked like his mother. No, thank you.

"Do you-?" she tried to ask, but Noah cut her off with a growl and a rude gesture, sitting down on the floor near the corner, but keeping his eyes toward the room. Noah had been in enough scrapes in his life to know that you should protect your back, because no one else was going to do it for you. Not even your own freaking mother!

* * *

Kurt couldn't believe his plan had worked, much less that his father had believed Kurt's bluff about seducing Brother David. If there was anyone who could revolt Kurt just by looking at him, it was that man. Kurt would have liked to be able to say that his revulsion was due simply to Brother David's heated glances and his sweaty appearance and the way his fat fingers ran up and down the spine of the holy book while Bishop Figgins gave the sermon.

No, it was  _the kiss_  that caused Kurt's revulsion. The unwanted, unasked-for violation Brother David had pressed down on Kurt that one day in the bower. He had  _dared_  to attack a prince of the realm, and yet somehow, Kurt couldn't report him. He couldn't take the man's life away simply because he was struggling with demons of his own. As sick as it was, Kurt felt some sort of  _camaraderie_  with his attacker, a sameness that made him keep his mouth shut and keep his distance from the monk.

Besides, the bastard might have stolen a kiss, but there was no way he would  _kill_  Kurt, the young and handsome, if stand-offish, Prince of Lima.

The next morning, William Schuester, Burt's steward (and illegitimate brother, if rumor was to believed), knocked on Kurt's door, a sharp decisive rapping that easily reached Kurt, who sat at his vanity table, finishing his preparations for the day ahead.

He'd been loath to do it, but Kurt dressed down for the event, wearing servants' clothes with no house markings. Kurt hadn't been able to keep his hands off his hair, however, making sure to style it perfectly, despite the fact that he would be hiding under a cloak. Kurt prayed that the summer morning wouldn't be so warm that he'd go into a fit from heat exhaustion, but the cloak was the only way Kurt would be sure to hide his identity.

Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, Kurt stood and crossed his chamber, asking and waiting for Will's name in the man's own voice before opening the door. A Prince, whose father was both beloved and hated, could never be too careful. However, when he opened the door and found Will wearing a bright teal mask complete with sequins and feathers from the last masquerade Princess Quinn had thrown, Kurt almost choked on his own tongue. "Will, please tell me that's not what you're wearing!"

"Too much?" Will asked with a tiny grin, slipping the horrid accessory off and revealing a face that was just starting to show its age. In some ways, Will felt like another parent, especially after Kurt's mother had died and all the help he'd provided during those dark days. In other ways, Will felt more like an older (much older) brother. Those were more often than not his days off, when he was more prone to using his sense of humor, telling jokes or doing funny little dances that he tried to get Kurt and Finn to emulate in the name of teaching them the ways of the world. Kurt knew what he was up to from the start, but found he didn't mind playing along.

Lately the only time Kurt got along with his true brother was during those few hours once a week where Will updated them both on the state of the kingdom and explained why their father had made certain decisions, encouraging them to give their own opinions and have debates when their opinions differed. At one point, Kurt started making an effort to let Finn win a debate or two here and there, when he felt Finn getting too frustrated with him. Kurt knew it wasn't in his brother's best interest – hell, it wasn't in the  _country's_ best interest – but he couldn't stand Finn acting like he hated him. It hurt too much.

"Yes," Kurt agreed to Will's query, taking a deep breath now that he knew Will wasn't quite as stupid as he'd made himself out to be. "But that cloak will do nicely, I think. Who's driving us into town?"

"I sent Brett for a coach about an hour ago," Will replied, turning up his hood so his face was partially hidden in shadow. "So it should be here shortly. Brett said he knew of a driver we could trust, providing we could pay enough."

Closing and locking his chamber doors behind him, Kurt asked, "How much did Father give you for today's outing?" Kurt felt that guilty twisting in his gut when he realized once again he was buying a  _person_  today, but he ignored it. He deserved this. A year wasn't too much to ask of a man that was facing the rest of his life beholden to another, was it? Kurt needed that year to feel like he wouldn't always be this lonely, even if it was true. Even if it meant emptying his father's coffers, Kurt would pay what it took for some companionship. Male companionship. Even if the slave was only his friend, that seemed to Kurt like it would be enough to make up for the loss of his brother to grown-up pursuits like running the country and being a husband and father.

Just one year to come to terms what the future had in store for Prince Kurt Hummel of Lima, and he hoped it would be enough.

"Barely enough," Will sighed, hefting the purse at his belt before pushing it back behind his cloak. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? You know Burt doesn't have that much money of his own. Most of the tax money goes back to the people in one way or another."

"I know," Kurt nodded, leading the way toward the side door near the stables, where Brett was sure to lead the coach. Kurt had been living with his father's policies ever since he remembered. There had never been any doubt that the family was royal and they owned quite a bit of land, but Burt refused to spend any more money than they needed to keep up appearances, Kurt's addiction to fine fabrics and the latest fashions notwithstanding. There was nothing left to say that hadn't already been said and argued over at length, so Kurt waited in silence, watching as the day grew brighter and hotter and as he started sweating uncomfortably in his cloak.

* * *

"I never thought my life would come to this," Noah overheard the pretty girl say softly to the dark-skinned girl, Mercedes. "My fathers didn't even give me up! I was stolen by the Bishop's men, but no one here believes me!"

"Girl, -" Mercedes sighed, rolling her eyes when the pretty girl interrupted with her name.

"Rachel." Noah recognized her name was from the holy book, just like his, and was even more convinced that she was part of The Tribe. But, that didn't mean he had to care about her story, right? Right.

"Why would the Bishop's men take you, Rachel?" Mercedes asked. "The Church are the good guys!"

"The Church didn't like the fact that after my mother left, my 'Uncle' Joseph became my Papa Joe, and that he and my Daddy Aaron love each other very much. The  _Church_  told me I was taken to punish them, since King Burt put an end to all those hangings they used to do instead." Rachel's tears fell freely now, her mouth in a torn grimace, and Noah felt for her a little. Mostly he was jealous because, as weird as it sounded, he would rather have two dads and no mother than a mom that sold him while she still had the chance.

"You were raised by  _pansies_?" that irritating Jacob kid asked disdainfully and Noah almost got up to punch him for it.

Instead, another slave stood up, smoothed down his tunic and then grabbed Jacob by the collar. "Don't insult the lady's family, you louse. Whatever household you're from never taught you any manners, did they?"

"I..." Jacob replied, trying his best to pull his collar away from the older boy's grip.

"Just let him go, Jesse," Rachel sighed, frowning at Jacob like he was shit stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "He's not worth it."

"C'mon," the Jesse guy said, shoving Jacob away and throwing his arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Let's all sit here and pray that we get purchased by kind masters, and end up all together. Gods, we beseech thee-"

"That's not," Rachel sighed, blushing and pulling away from her friend. "That's not how I pray, Jesse! To think after what they did to me, you'd use the Church's words to comfort me! I've never-"

Needing this tirade to end before his headache got worse, Noah whistled sharply, meeting Rachel's eyes when she turned. Jerking his head to motion her over, Noah said, "I know our prayers, Princess."

"You're Tribe?" she asked with a bright smile, even more teeth showing when he nodded. Not that long ago, according to Noah's mother, it had been unwise to divulge one's tribal heritage for fear of persecution from the Church, but now under King Burt, Noah's people felt safe for the first time in hundreds of years and he hadn't even felt grateful for that fact until this moment.

Sparing one last look at Jesse, Rachel bounced over toward him and even though it was a pointless situation and there was only about an hour left before the auction was set to begin, Noah felt like he'd won something huge. Noah took the girl's hand, wondering if this was what his sister would look like in ten years' time, and closed his eyes. Noah began the prayer for lost souls in the language of his mothers, noticing when Rachel joined him, her voice strong and clear, her accent perfect. It had been so long since Noah's father left and his nana passed away that he couldn't remember the second half of the prayer, stumbling through the words half a step behind the girl.

As she moved into the prayer of comfort and good health, Rachel squeezed Noah's hand firmly and for a few seconds too long. The gesture made Noah think that it would be nice if he and Rachel ended up in the same place when this was all over. It would be like having family around again. Except you couldn't even trust family as far as you could throw them.

The spell of peace his and Rachel's words had spread over the room fizzled away when the auction master's goons burst in. "Time to go, lads. Hey, you tribbies in the corner, knock it off and get over here!"

So maybe not  _all_  of the persecution was gone. Noah had heard the term "tribbie", but had never had it directed at him before. He found he wasn't fond of the experience.

Scowling, Noah stood up and shuffled after the rest of the god damned slaves, separated from Rachel almost right away. Out in the morning sun of the sales field, Noah was told to stand and, "Try not to scowl so much. It's bad for business."

"Like I could give a fuck about your business," Noah scoffed, wincing and stumbling when one of the auction attendants whacked the back of his knee with a stick, like he was a horse or something. He bit back another curse and silently continued his prayers, refusing to acknowledge any of the potential buyers that looked him over.

The field was a dirt courtyard between the building he'd been shoved into and what Noah quickly gathered was the auction house. Boys and men were lined up according to age, Noah guessed, on one end of the field, with girls and women on the other.

Maybe ten minutes in, Noah heard an indignant scream from the other end of the field, and thought he recognized Rachel's voice. He turned to find the source of the commotion, finding Rachel held in place by two big men while a buyer lifted up her skirt to take a look underneath. Rage built up in Noah's heart and he jumped out of line, scrambling halfway across the field after her before anyone noticed him move. Due to the shackles around his ankles, the guards caught him before he got to Rachel, so all he could do was cry, "Fucking keep your hands off her, you goyish bastard! Let her go!"

A devastating punch to the face sent Noah reeling and a man snarled, "Oh no you don't." After a sharp pain on the back of his head and a sheet of black dropping over his eyes, Noah passed out.

* * *

When the agent Will hired met them at the auction house doors, Kurt had his first inkling that this process wasn't quite as civilized as he imagined it would be in his several months of research into the matter. The agent was thick, with a clean-shaven double chin and short black hair. The worst part, though, was his dress – from the too-tight short pants to the sloppy collar of his short-sleeved shirt and the pouch strapped around his considerable waist, the man was a walking fashion disaster.

"Hey, m'lord," he said, sticking out one meaty paw toward Will. "Ken Tanaka. Like I told your messenger, just a two percent finder's fee and I'll help you find the best slave for your money. And, uh," he stammered, "your needs. Speaking of, what exactly are you looking for?"

Will looked to Kurt, so the prince sighed and thought it over before saying, "Young. Around sixteen. Male. Um … I don't really have any other requirements."

Tanaka pulled a piece of parchment out of his waist-pouch and scanned through it. "We've got three boys that fit that description today. Two are Tribe, though, so we'll focus on the other one."

"No," Kurt insisted, trying to understand why this man would automatically rule out someone because of their heritage. He thought prejudice was a nobleman's vice that his father was trying to wipe out, not something a layman would indulge in as well. "No, I want to see all of them."

Tanaka looked Kurt in the eyes for a long moment before nodding his pudgy face and saying, "Alright, then. Cover up and I'll take you through the field and to one of the bunkhouses. You can talk to the slaves there and still preserve your identity, if you'd like."

Kurt nodded. If he was going to have this companion for a year, he might as well talk to him first and make sure they got along before spending his father's money on something that would never work out. Plus, he'd like to make sure the slave was amenable to his one-year plan before making his decision. He knew that since he'd hired Tanaka, the auction master would let Kurt have first dibs at whichever slave he wanted, without having to go through the whole auction process, because that was how Quinn's mother Lady Judy had bought all her slaves.

They walked quickly through the auction house and out the back into a dirt-covered courtyard full of people. Shuffling feet had kicked dust up into the air and Kurt frowned at the way it settled on his clothes and on his tongue as he tried to breathe. Slaves were easy to identify by the dark numbers stained under their throats and the heavy shackles on their wrists, and for the larger children and adults, ankles. When he saw a toddler in tiny little handcuffs, Kurt stopped short, making Will run into his back. As he watched the girl clutch her doll close and stare up at the woman in front of her with wide, shiny eyes, Kurt couldn't breathe. Who in their right mind would sell someone so young? Who would buy her?

Kurt almost said to hell with his plan and opened his mouth to ask Will to buy her instead, so Kurt could set her free and make sure she found a home with loving parents. That's when he saw six more very young children, two on the girls' side of the field and four on the boys'. Kurt's limited supply of money wouldn't fix this. Power and influence would. But if his father couldn't stop this from happening, how could Kurt possibly set it right? The simple fact of who he was, of who he was truly attracted to, lost him some influence with the earls to begin with, but if he began the campaign at the ground, under a false name, would knowing what he knew about how the country ran be enough to stop this?

Sighing and swallowing the bile that had crept up into his throat, Kurt hurried to catch up with Tanaka, making sure the hood of his cloak continued to hide his identity. This close to the palace, there was always the chance that even in the absence of the ruling class, a layperson would recognize him. The risk was even greater for Will to be recognized, since he brokered deals with so many of the tradesmen in town, so Kurt turned back to make sure Will was taking precautions. His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

One of the female slaves, a girl about Kurt's age, struggled against her captors as two guards held her arms and a buyer lifted her skirt. "What in the gods' good names?" Kurt cried, taking a step toward the crime until a scuffle nearby distracted him yet again.

A handsome, well-muscled boy in shackles pushed his way through the crowd, brushing right past Kurt as he bellowed, "Fucking keep your hands off her, you goyish bastard! Let her go!" in a strong, livid voice. He was trying to protect the girl's dignity, wasn't he? Kurt's heart fluttering at the strength of the boy's rebellion, he almost missed it when the auction master, a horrid man named Rod Remington, hit the slave on the back of the head with a soft bludgeon. The slave passed out and Kurt turned to Tanaka, pulling on the man's sleeve to get his attention and then pointing to the boy in the dirt.

"I want him."

* * *

When he woke up, Noah had no idea where he was, and the shackles around his wrists and ankles were gone. The strips of light streaming into the room between the slats of the shutters were still bright, so he couldn't have been out for that long. Looking around a little more, he found he was back in the room where he and Rachel prayed, laid out on a low bed that had to look more comfortable than it felt. The back of his head throbbed from where that bastard had hit him, so Noah tried to see a little more without moving too much. Hell, if he could get his feet working, this might be the perfect opportunity to make a break for it.

"My client doesn't care, Mr. Remington," some fat man told that auction master. "And he knows after that little outburst on the field you'll have a helluva time getting even an opening bid on this one. He's doing you a favor, man."

"Hmm," Remington murmured as he thought. Then he boomed in that very articulate, carrying voice of his, "I probably would have to buy his deed myself and then sell him off during next month's auction. But the money your client wants to pay is laughable. This is a strong, sturdy tribbie in the prime of his life, Ken. A hundred ducats is nothing!"

"Better than nothing," that other guy insisted. "My client's not even willing to pay a hundred and five. Just take the deal, Rod."

Sighing, the auction master thought for a moment before sticking his hand out, "Deal. I'll have Melody come get the finished paperwork." When Remington left, Noah saw there were two guards outside the door, meaning even if he was free of his shackles, there was no way he could escape. Not yet.

Then Noah turned his head and saw two men in cloaks sitting there, watching him. Shit. Those must have been the guys that bought him. Carefully, so they wouldn't freak out and hit him again, Noah sat up on the edge of the bed and asked, "What?"

The two men looked at each other (Or was that one man and one boy?) before the older one said, "Noah, we have a proposition for you. I'll let my friend explain while Mr. Tanaka and I look through the papers the auction master left us. We agreed to purchase you, but until the papers are signed, we can put you right back in the auction house, understand?"

Noah had no idea why this man had agreed to buy him or what the guy's conditions were, but he nodded his head anyway, not suppressing the sneer of anger that sprang onto his lips at the mention of being bought. Turning to the boy, who looked to be about his same age, Noah asked, "Who are you?" and watched as the boy's pale skin flushed.

"For now you can call me Mike," he replied, pushing his cloak off his shoulders and heaving a small sigh of relief. Noah understood that, it was freaking hot out. Why anyone would wear more than short pants and a vest was beyond him. "The deal is simple."

"Oh yeah?" Noah scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away from the boy, looking for another way out.

Mike nodded. "You cooperate for one year, be my companion and do everything that I ask, and I'll set you free. You'll be your own man again."

"Anything you ask?" Noah repeated in surprise, liking the sound of the whole being-a-free-man bit. "What kind of shit are we talking about here?"

Wincing at Noah's cussing, Mike shrugged. "You'll ... You'll be my friend, go everywhere I go. You won't tell anyone you're a slave and I promise I won't treat you like one. I just-"

"Need to buy a friend?" Noah scoffed, crossing his hands over his chest. "Man, that is seriously messed up."

"I know," the boy scoffed, his cheeks bright red, but his eyes hard. "If you agree, we'll sign a contract that says as long as you behave, I will be bound by law to set you free a year from now."

"Who decides whether or not I'm behaving?" Noah asked furiously, nervous energy making him want to get up and pace the room. He didn't, though. That blow to the back of the head - Rachel! How could Noah have forgotten about her?

"My father's steward," Mike replied, pointing to the other man with a cloak. "He's very fair."

Noah scoffed again before looking Mike up and down. The kid was skinny, probably a Nobleman's son or something, and had a very definite feminine cast to his appearance. Great, he'd been bought by a pansy, who would probably ask him to do things guys didn't usually do together. But a year would be worth it, right? Especially if, "I'll agree under one condition."

Mike met Noah's gaze for a few long seconds before nodding carefully.

"You paid bupkes for me," he observed, pointing to the number on his chest, which clearly said two-hundred fifty. "So, I'm thinking, you use the rest of your daddy's money to buy my friend. You do that, set her free, and I'll do anything you want." Noah smirked and moved closer to the rich boy, watching Mike's eyes grow wide and knowing he was on the right track. Everyone thought Noah was attractive, why wouldn't he? Whispering in the boy's ear, Noah repeated, "Anything."

As Noah drew back, watching Mike compose himself and snap his jaw shut, he almost laughed. This kid was just as easy to figure out as all those housewives Noah had worked for. Licking his lips, Mike nodded and spoke up, "Tanaka? I'd like to make another purchase. Go find a girl named..." he looked to Noah for the answer.

"Rachel," Noah supplied, not exactly sure why he felt so urgent to get the girl out and free. He knew it had something to do with not wanting to know she'd been corrupted and raped by whoever bought her. She was his people, his girl. It might not mean much to Noah's mother, but not that long ago, all anyone Tribe had left was each other. Noah remembered the stories and how disappointed in him his nana would have been for just sitting by and letting Rachel get hurt.

"Rachel," Mike agreed. "See if we have enough to pay her asking price."

"Why?" the other nobleman asked. "My ... my lord, what are you thinking?"

"Please, just do it?" the boy cajoled, and Noah saw the way this other man's resolve softened under that look and that tone of voice. Well, these people couldn't be too bad if they felt for one another. Noah had heard tales of Nobles who would kill their own mothers to get some political advantage or another.

Yeah, this was setting up to be a pretty sweet deal - live in Mike's house, be his friend, eat his food, live the good life and after a year go home and gloat to his drunken mother about all the things he'd seen. Pretty sweet.

* * *

The boy, Noah according to his paperwork, was much different than Kurt expected him to be. His concern over his friend and fellow slave, that Rachel girl, had belied a calculating nature Kurt recognized as soon as the boy opened his mouth. Sure, he was uneducated and obviously cocky, but the young man had instincts and something of a brain to go with them.

If only Kurt had more than a year, he might be able to get Noah educated, make him a good advisor for when Finn was king. But his father always said, "A man's worth nothing but his word," and Kurt knew a year was all he would allow himself. He'd given his word.

He couldn't help, though, watching the muscles ripple on Noah's arm when the young man looked around the room and scratched his shorn-short hair with one giant hand. Kurt shivered again at the memory of the boy's voice whispering in his ear, so damn promising, and yet … that whisper had made Kurt a little uneasy, too. If he wasn't careful, it would be so easy to fall for Noah, so easy to be manipulated into doing little favors here and there, until he was under the boy's thumb and exposing the throne to someone who didn't belong there – just like Finn and Quinn.

No, even if he wanted more, Kurt knew he had to keep Noah at arm's length for a good, long while until he really got to know the boy. Even then, if it wasn't love on both their parts, it was wrong. Kurt would be no better than Lady Sue and her slave-of-the-week.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted when Remington's men escorted the girl from the yard into the building as well, slamming shut the door behind her. The girl blinked in the dimmer indoor light, her eyes going wide when they saw Kurt and he winced at the recognition there. "Prince Kurt?" she cried, rushing up toward him. "Oh, my god! I'm your biggest fan, you have no idea!"

"Thank you?" Kurt replied slowly, wondering if she was one of those prince-crazy girls that dreamed of marrying into the palace, or what.

"Prince  _Kurt_?" Noah asked with an amused snort, and Kurt couldn't tell if that smirk on his face was light- or mean-hearted. He prayed for the former.

"I saw you sing!" Rachel exclaimed. "At last Winter Solstice. You were amazing!"

Kurt wondered how a slave-girl had attended his Father's Yule party, when it was invitation-only and served only by the palace staff – free servants who Kurt always made sure to know by name and face – but it seemed rude to ask. Instead, he nodded and mumbled another, "Thank you. It was just a silly song."

"It was a  _revelation_!" Rachel insisted, stepping forward a little more and almost taking his hands before she appeared to think better of it. "I mean, my vocal coach – Sir Sandy Ryerson – said that you were gifted, but I just didn't understand the scope of your talent until I heard you in person! I can't believe I'm standing in front of you. Right here! Can I…? Can I hug you? Please?"

Kurt weighed in his head the pros and cons of giving this  _intense_  young woman what she wanted, but finally came down with the opinion that if Noah liked this girl as much as he seemed to, it would be best to be as kind as possible, in order for Kurt to ingratiate himself with his new companion. "Why not?" Kurt smiled, holding out his arms and letting the girl wrap around him tightly like she never wanted to let go. "If I could breathe…" he stuttered, panting a little when Rachel loosened her grip, "I'd tell you that I've bought your papers and as soon as my friend files them with the county, you'll be free to go."

Rachel let Kurt go abruptly, her eyes wide and her mouth slack in surprise. She looked from Kurt, to Noah, back to Will and Tanaka, and then to Kurt again. "Seriously? I'm free?"

Kurt nodded, not missing the way Noah looked away, like Rachel's reaction was too much for him to bear watching.

"I can go ho- I  _can't_ go home," she insisted. "The Church will just come up with some new way of torturing my family and I can't…" Rachel burst into tears unexpectedly, so Kurt took her arm, and feeling awful for making her cry, led her to a chair so she could sit down.

"Why can't you go home?" he asked softly, patting her hand in a way he hoped was soothing, but Rachel could barely breathe through her tears, much less give an intelligible response.

But then, Noah approached and leaned in, mumbling in Kurt's ear again and sending goose bumps all up and down his side despite the heat. "The Church stole her from her dads to teach them a lesson. They're … they're like you, _Kurt_ ," he explained, emphasizing that last syllable like it was a triumph he knew Kurt's real name. For gods' sakes, Kurt was going to tell him the truth – everything included – on the way home. There was no need for Noah to act all superior about something as silly as a given name.

When the weight of Noah's words finally sunk into Kurt's brain, though, he grew outraged. "The fucking Church," he breathed heatedly, not caring that he wasn't exactly in private company. Kurt couldn't be himself in public because he was in line for the throne, but the Church was harassing private citizens behind the King's back? "I'm so sorry, Rachel," Kurt said louder, crouching down to look the girl in the eyes. "I can't do much to thwart the Church at this moment, sweetie, so I can't get you back home, but I could give you a place to stay. Technically you'd be a servant, but I could make your only duties practicing music with me. We could bring Sir Ryerson to continue giving us both lessons. Would you like that?"

Through the tears, Rachel nodded and threw herself at him again, dampening his (thankfully inexpensive) shirt and clinging to him like he was a gift from the gods. Kurt looked back at Noah and saw that while the boy was pointedly ignoring their display of emotion, he also had a tiny smile in the corner of his lips. It wasn't much, but it was a start, right?

* * *

On the carriage ride from the auction house to the freaking  _palace_ , Noah tried to figure out what the hell he'd gotten himself into. He figured it would be easy to ignore "Mike" as much as possible, do what he had to do, and then get freed. He hadn't counted on the prince being a stand-up kind of guy and being so kind to Rachel. He guessed it helped that Kurt and Rachel's parents had more than a little in common, but still. Not every guy – noble or regular person – would do so much for someone as annoying, but hot, as Rachel.

It made it very difficult to hate Kurt.

It made it easier to believe that Kurt was a guy of his word and would let Noah free when this one year was over and done with. Before they left, the man with Kurt – the famous Will Schuester, king's-right-hand-man – had given Noah a contract to read over and sign, probably ignorant of the fact that although Noah  _could_  read, most slaves who were born into it or young enough when they got sold into it couldn't. And the contract seemed legit. There were specific ways listed for how both Noah and Kurt could conceivably break the contract (violence on either side, divulgence of the details of their arrangement, and the like) but nothing sneaky like in his mother's rental contract for their last apartment (the one they'd gotten kicked out of for being just two days late with the rent).

Maybe, given enough time, Kurt could do something like what he did for Rachel for Noah's sister. Although Rachel was Tribe, and he felt some sort of allegiance toward her (despite her personality getting worse by the second), Sarah was his flesh-and-blood sister. She was the girl he would die for without a second thought. And she was all alone.

* * *

"So," Kurt said, chuckling a little nervously as he opened the chamber door, "this is where you'll be staying, Noah." He led the way into the room, thanking the gods that it was still bright out – even after all the time he'd spent getting Rachel set with Miss Emma in the kitchen – so the room looked nice and much more inviting than it did at night. There was a big bed, a large wardrobe, a door to the shared washroom between this room and Finn's servant's room, and a door to Kurt's room. "I'm through there," he pointed. "Traditionally, this room would go to my manservant, so it only makes sense that you'd stay here. You can talk to Miss Emma about different decorations, though I'm afraid most of what we have is more of the same." Kurt frowned at the stuffed boar's head on the wall above the fireplace before looking back to Noah, who looked like he was trying to hide his amazement. "More than you're used to?"

Noah shrugged and plopped down on the bed (Kurt would have to talk to the boy about his manners in front of company) admitting, "This is, like five times bigger than my old room, and I had to share with my sister."

Encouraged by the way Noah could have been opening up by admitting that, Kurt smiled and asked, "What's your sister's name?"

"Sarah," Noah replied offhand, standing up to go peer out the window at the gardens below. "She's seven. Real smart." Then, he took a sharp breath, like he hadn't meant to give up so much, which Kurt found more than a little endearing. "Not why I'm here, though, is it?" He turned to give Kurt a hard, almost intimidating stare – if Kurt wasn't used to it from his father. "How's this gonna work? I just follow you around like a lap dog until my sentence is up?"

Kurt frowned and replied dryly, "Something like that," before taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he explained, "I spend most of my day learning – what it takes to run a kingdom, how to make polite discourse," he gave Noah a biting look, which the boy smirked at, "and a wide variety of other topics. I thought maybe you'd like to learn as well."

"Look," Noah said, running one hand over his scalp again in what Kurt was quickly learning was his nervous gesture, "I know how to read and count and stuff. Why would I want to know more than that?"

Kurt stood, confused for a moment before he realized that this had to be some sort of social class disconnect. Tilting his head as he regarded the young man, Kurt asked, "Well, what do you like to do? What were you planning on becoming once you were out of your mother's house?"

Noah simply shrugged in response, so Kurt decided maybe he'd better call it a night. "Okay. I'll have Emma bring you some food and get you fitted for some new clothes. Maybe have your friend Rachel join you for supper?"

"Lettin' me see hot chicks?" Noah asked, giving Kurt an amused but disbelieving smirk. "Thought the whole reason you bought me was..."

Kurt filled in the blank for himself, feeling his ears go bright red. "No!" he insisted. "No. I just want ... a friend, you know? No ... required."

Noah nodded slowly, leaning on one of the bedposts and watching Kurt so intently it made the prince blush bright red. "You're a weird guy, Prince Kurt," he finally settled on, standing up straighter and readjusting his vest across his shoulders.

Kurt ducked his head in acknowledgement that yes, that was probably true, and said, "Well, good night, Noah. I'll see you in the morning." He didn't really give the boy a chance to respond before retreating into his chambers next door. For a moment he debated locking the door, but he had a feeling Noah would test it and Kurt really wanted to be trusted. It was the basis of every diplomatic relationship and every interpersonal relationship, as far as he had observed in his short life.

Kurt left it unlocked.

* * *

Noah didn't know what to think as his relationship to the Prince and the contract he'd signed just became a lot more confusing. The Prince didn't want him for sex. He just wanted a  _friend_?

What a loser.

Except, Noah kind of got it. The kid had grown up in this big, empty palace and Noah imagined it being full of people like his mother – only upper class – where they would say something to your face and you couldn't quite tell if it was a compliment or an insult or both. When Noah's mother was drunk, it was almost always just an insult.

Before long, a chick knocked on Noah's door and he let her in, frowning at the way her orange-colored hair reminded him of that dweeb, Jacob, and letting her measure him for clothing.

"You're lucky to get this position as the Prince's manservant," she pointed out, measuring the breadth of his shoulders. "It's much better living here in the castle, rather than out in the city. It's so dirty out there…"

"Yeah," Noah replied off-hand. He hadn't really noticed dirt other than when his mother yelled at him for tracking it into the house – a house where he was no longer welcome, apparently. Well, that was fine. He got to live in the palace and sleep in that awesome looking bed and pretend to be the Prince's friend for a year. "It definitely could be worse."

"And we're all set," Miss Pillsbury said with a bright smile, stowing her measuring tape in her apron pocket. "The clothes in the wardrobe should fit well enough for now, so why don't you get cleaned up and I'll come back for you once dinner is ready?"

Nodding, Noah opened the wardrobe door and called over his shoulder, "Thanks, miss." It generally wasn't his policy to be polite to anyone, but the orange-haired woman was nice and he figured she might be up for a roll in the hay at some point. That ass was certainly worth a little social nicety.

Maybe an hour later, Noah found himself sitting down to dinner in a servants' dining room which, while it wasn't obscenely ornate like some parts of the castle he'd passed, was much fancier than he was used to. That man from the auction, Will, was there with Miss Pillsbury sitting at his side. A man Rachel introduced as Sandy Ryerson sat with them as well, and of course, Rachel. Even among the servants, Puck felt out of his depth, faced with too many forks and uncomfortable clothes and polite talk about Rachel's singing career.

"…want to do is act onstage," Rachel was saying, smiling brightly at Noah from across the table and then looking to her vocal coach for approval. "I have so many ideas for musicals, and recent experiences certainly contribute to the pool of stories I'd like to tell."

"What about you, Noah?" Will asked, trying to bring him into the conversation. "Do you like music at all?"

"Sure," Noah shrugged, taking another bite of his roast – damn, this was tasty. "Not much to do at night except sit around at the pub, drinking and singing."

"Pub songs?" Rachel frowned. "Those disgusting chants about bodily functions? That barely qualifies as music, Noah."

Noah shrugged and took another bite of his food. It was their loss. And really, who served roast with wine, instead of ale? These rich people had seriously skewed priorities.

* * *

At dinner with his family, Kurt tried his best not to talk about his day other than in vague terms. "Oh, it was fine. Will and I went into the city, but we didn't find anything exciting. Just exactly what we were looking for – a new bolt of cloth."

"Good," the king grunted from the head of the table, looking across Carole and meeting Kurt's eyes. "I'm glad you found something suitable, son."

Across the table, Kurt saw Quinn mumble something in Finn's ear, making the prince frown in Kurt's direction. It wasn't as though Quinn could have found out that Noah's appointment was more indentured servitude than voluntary, so what lies could she be telling Finn? Boiling a little with anger, Kurt stabbed his next bite a little more forcefully than he should have, earning a glare from his father.

Finn and Quinn kept talking together quietly, so Kurt choked down a few more bites and pushed back from the table, saying, "Father? May I be excused?"

With a sigh, King Burt nodded and glowered at Finn and Quinn, finally silencing them now that Kurt had given up. When he got back to his rooms, Kurt wanted to knock on Noah's door to see primarily if he was still there, but also that he was doing well. Kurt had this urge to make the young man like him, even if he had compelled Noah into pretending to be his friend. It felt like crossing a boundary, though, so he readied himself for bed.

It took a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

Noah didn't sleep at all his first night in the palace. His bed was too soft and nothing smelled familiar and he kept getting this feeling that if he was to fall asleep, everything would disappear and he'd be right back in the slave pens, waiting to be sold off to the highest bidder. When staying in his own room became too oppressive, Noah got up, pulling on his old pair of pants, and tested the door between his room and the prince's.

It opened almost too easily and without any noise. The room was brighter than Noah's, having larger windows to let the moonlight in, and he could see the prince sleeping in his bed. How could a boy like that buy two people's lives in the morning and sleep soundly in the evening? Sure, he'd freed Rachel and given her a paying job, but Noah was still a slave, no matter what Prince Kurt promised.

Noah should just slip away in the night, travel into the next kingdom, and try to make a living there. He looked old enough to pass for the sixteen he wasn't for a few more days. He could do it.

It briefly crossed his mind that he would be free if he found a knife and slit Prince Kurt's throat while he was sleeping, but Noah knew he couldn't do that, if just for the simple fact that Kurt had spared Rachel endless torment. Not that he actually liked Rachel, now that he knew her a little better. She was annoying and headstrong and more than a little rude. Noah laughed softly when he realized that she and Prince Kurt appeared to have more in common than just a singing instructor.

Watching the boy sleep, Noah wondered if maybe he could learn to like the prince, just to make this next year easier on himself. It wasn't like he was ugly and it wasn't like he was mean. Noah had gotten along with worse people for longer, like more than one of his mother's lovers. Besides, if Prince Kurt was the key to getting his sister out of that house, Noah would do almost anything.

Even sleep with the guy.

Shaking his head at the thought, probably borne out of exhaustion, Noah slipped back into his room to wait for the morning and his first full day as the prince's shadow.

* * *

The next morning Kurt had breakfast in his sitting room, knocking quietly on the door between his room and the next as soon as the maid had left him. "Noah?"

After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Kurt's slave wearing only his old pair of pants, and no shirt. The boy looked bleary-eyed and like he hadn't slept, so Kurt kept his voice low as he asked, "Would you come have breakfast with me? I'd like to discuss our schedule for the day."

Noah shrugged with one shoulder, so Kurt added, "I have very strong tea, if that changes your mind any. You look like you could use it."

Still wordless and making Kurt wonder if maybe his tongue didn't work before mid-morning, Noah brushed past Kurt and into the room, acting like he owned it, or maybe just like he'd been there before. Kurt had to steady himself at the doorway for a moment after being overwhelmed by the boy's warm, not-quite-clean smell.

It made his mouth water, which was peculiar and something Kurt definitely couldn't tell his servant. He wanted Noah to trust him, to like him, not to get put on edge by the fact that Prince Kurt wasn't exactly normal.

Kurt followed Noah into the sitting room and took a seat in an armchair, pouring the tea and giving Noah a cup as the boy sat down on the sofa to Kurt's left. "Today starts with fencing lessons and then music with Rachel. Does that sound agreeable?"

Noah swallowed down a long gulp of tea, even though it was very hot, and muttered, "Why are you even asking? It's not like I have a choice."

"True," Kurt admitted, "but I'd rather keep you in good health, if it's all the same to you. If you don't feel well, fencing might not be the best way to start the day. You could get hurt."

Noah scoffed. "I'm tough, man. I could do it. I'm, like, born to fight."

"Ah," Kurt nodded, smirking at the boy over his tea and trying not to laugh outright and how much he looked like a puppy bearing its teeth for the first time. "Well, then. Perhaps we'll train you toward a career in the military? My brother is quite adept, you know. I just take the fencing lessons so I'll know how to defend myself should an enemy of the state get past the guards."

"Makes sense," Noah nodded, picking up a biscuit and sniffing it before taking a big bite, barely even chewing before washing it down with more scalding-hot tea. Kurt wondered how often the man suffered from dyspepsia, given his eating habits, which would definitely have to be corrected before Noah could join him at state functions.

* * *

Brushing the sweat out of his eyes and gulping down as much air as he could, Noah faced his opponent – a damn woman – and wondered if maybe he should have taken Kurt up on his offer to sit this morning out.

Things had started out well. After getting dressed in some older, more comfortable clothes, Noah followed Kurt out to the training grounds in the courtyard outside the palace, but inside the castle walls. His boots squishing in the dewy grass, Noah stood by as he watched General Beiste take Kurt through a series of drills, all with practice wooden dowels at first and then switching to fencing foils that had been capped with cork at the end.

"Hey," a voice said to Noah's left and he had to look up to meet the eyes of the newcomer, who stuck out his hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Kurt's brother, Finn. You must be his new servant or whatever that Father agreed to."

A little intimidated, because the guy was huge and a freaking prince of the realm, Noah took the man's hand and shook it, nodding.

"That's nice," Finn replied, taking back his hand and polishing his helmet a little. "It's not like Kurt's going to marry any time soon, even if he is old enough next week. He should have someone to look after him the way my wife looks after me."

"I'm not his damn wife," Noah growled before he could think any better. Of course, he was also too proud to take it back, even though Finn's mouth dropped in surprise and he laughed.

Clapping Noah on the back, Finn agreed, "Of course not, man. Of course. And look, I know you were hired or whatever and good for you, but you do know that Kurt's going to be passing you off to the others as a distant relative or something, right?"

"So?" Noah replied. He hadn't really been paying attention, so Kurt might have said something of the sort.

"So, you've got to shape up. I don't mind, but the other nobles would, like,  _castrate_  you for talking back to me like that. Just saying…"

Noah nodded, looking back out to the field and the way Kurt defended the big lady's attacks with practiced ease and exceptionally quick footwork. "Thanks for the warning, Prince," he added, taking a big breath as Kurt ran over toward them, rosy-cheeked, and stopped a few feet away with a smile, handing Noah a wooden sword.

"It's your turn, Noah," he smiled, hopping up onto the fence and pointing Noah toward the big, bull-looking woman in the middle of the field. "Go on. I thought you were born to fight?"

Kicking himself for saying something like that, since he didn't need to impress the prince to get his freedom, just obey, Noah tested his grip on the wooden sword and approached General Beiste. "Ma'am," he nodded as he stopped, standing still as she swept her eyes up and down, looking for something.

"Good muscle tone," she announced, tossing her wooden sword back and forth from one hand to the other, "but I'm guessing you're fairly slow. Much of a boxer, are you?"

"I've been in a few fights," Noah replied, raising his sword in response to the lady's.

"We'll start slow," she nodded, twirling her sword now, like it was nothing. Noah wanted to learn how to do that. "Just try to block my blows. Keep me from hitting you."

It sounded so easy at the start, that after five minutes with bruises up and down both arms and some of his ribs, Noah really wanted to know what the hell had happened.

* * *

As Kurt sat on the fence, watching General Beiste beat some humility into his slave, Finn leaned back next to him, asking, "Where did you find him, brother?"

Kurt lied and said, "Through my vocal instructor. One of his students knows Noah's family. He's been looking for work for ages."

Finn nodded, laughing a little when Beiste got around behind Noah and smacked him in the ass with her sword. "He's crude. You're sure Sir Chang's son Mike wouldn't be a better fit? This Noah kid just doesn't look like he's ever going to fit in around here."

"That's your opinion," Kurt replied. "But it's my decision, brother, as long as Father is still king."

"Sure, sure," Finn allowed. "I just thought … people are going to talk. They're going to say you just brought him here because of his looks and because you're… Are you sure you don't want to marry?"

"I agreed to marry Lady Brittany," Kurt told his brother. "It's not the most elegant of arrangements, but she's amenable to the situation."

"The situation where she's not the one in your bed?" Finn asked, making Kurt uncomfortable. They never talked about this and Kurt couldn't help but wonder if the comment came from Quinn originally.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kurt replied, "That's her business and mine. Let's just say I'm glad you and Quinn are producing an heir."

"So you don't have to," Finn nodded. Then, he smiled again at something Noah had done, drawing Kurt's eye out to the field where his slave was currently on his back in a mud-puddle, General Beiste's wooden sword at his neck. "Just don't get caught, Kurt. I can't have it known that my brother likes what you like. Our whole house could come crashing down."

"Noah is just my servant and hopefully my friend," Kurt insisted. "And believe me, I probably know better than you what a shaky foundation our family sits in right now. Just don't … don't let Quinn put too much scripture in your head. There's a reason Father isn't a bishop of the Church and the Bishop isn't king. Keep that in mind?"

Kurt waited for Finn to nod before he ran out onto the field, giving Noah a hand up as Beiste moved onto drilling Finn. "You okay?"

"I just had my ass handed to me by a chick," Noah grumbled with a pout as he stood up and shook off some of the mud. "How do you think I am?"

Kurt laughed a little, catching Noah's eye to make sure the slave knew he was being kind-hearted with his laughter. "Humble?"

"Yeah right," Noah scoffed, trudging back toward the palace. "That's just not me."

* * *

After he got cleaned up and followed Kurt to the music room, Noah got to listen to Kurt and Rachel both singing under the tutelage of a guy that reminded him in small ways of Kurt in thirty years' time. In big ways, though, Noah knew Kurt was different. Kurt never touched Noah unexpectedly, unlike Sir Ryerson, who walked around the room as Rachel sang, stopping briefly behind Noah to massage his shoulders a little.

Noah put his back to the wall and tried not to tap his foot so much when Kurt started singing a jauntier tune, eyes sparkling as he smiled at Noah, all while singing clearly. None of Kurt's notes were misplaced and while Noah figured he'd rather hear the kid sing lower in his range than he was at the moment, it was an enjoyable way to pass the morning.

Lunch was held with Prince Finn and Princess Quinn as well as an entire court of younger, adolescent nobles – the up and comers of the aristocracy, as Kurt explained. Noah kept his mouth shut for the most part, trying not to let on that he recognized Princess Quinn in a very different context, nodding politely and watching as Lady Santana made snide comments at everyone. Sir Sam tried to make everyone laugh with his impressions of the king and General Beiste, and Sir Mike wowed everyone with tales of his recent trip east, to visit his ancestors' homeland. Noah hadn't ever left the city, so it was interesting being able to hear firsthand accounts of other places and things.

After lunch, Lady Santana caught up to Noah and said, "Hey, new guy?"

"Yeah?" Noah replied, not wanting Kurt to leave him behind, because he really had no idea where he was supposed to be next.

"Think about slipping into my room tonight," the girl whispered in his ear. "Your cousin would never have to know you were gone and I've got a few itches that need scratching."

Looking the girl up and down and liking what he saw, Noah asked, "How do I get there?"

"Downstairs from Prince Kurt's quarters," she replied. "Fourth door on the left. Knock a few times, alright?"

"Okay," Noah grinned, leaving her behind as he rushed to catch up with his master.

Kurt frowned at him as they walked and asked, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Noah lied, thinking about how long it had been since he'd manage to get with a girl (still decidedly not recognizing Princess Quinn) and how although Kurt insisted he wasn't here to be Kurt's romantic interest, the prince might not like him sneaking away to bone one of the ladies of his court anyway. Oh well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

* * *

That night, Kurt couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about how quickly everyone had taken to Noah, even though the boy had kept his mouth shut most of the day. Finn seemed to like him, Santana definitely had eyes for him, and Sir Sam and Lady Tina had got him to joke around a little while they played a game of cards. They seemed to like Noah better than they liked Kurt, which wasn't the plan. Not at all.

Wanting to talk to Noah about it, Kurt crept into the other boy's bedroom only to find him missing. His bed was empty, but still warm, like he'd just gotten out of it. He wasn't in the washroom. He wasn't out in the hall. Where could he be?

Afraid his father's money had been invested in an insane venture now that Noah had escaped, Kurt sat down on the slave's bed and tried not to cry. It had only been one day. Had one day of hanging around the palace, meeting Kurt's peers and living his life been so horrible? What would it take for someone,  _anyone_ , male to be Kurt's friend?

Before long, Noah's door slipped open and the boy came back into the room, whistling softly to himself and throwing his shirt, which he had not been wearing, onto the back of a chair. On one hand relieved that Noah hadn't run away and on the other hand furious about what had obviously happened with one of the women in the castle (even though Kurt had insisted Noah could see whom he liked), Kurt asked, "Where have you been?"

"God damn, man!" Noah cried, jumping and putting his hand over his heart. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Where were you, Noah?"

"Out," the slave replied. "What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?"

Kurt kind of liked the way Noah talked back to him the way no one else did, but it wasn't enough to make up for the anger he felt. "Looking for someone to talk to, Noah. I'm glad your physical needs took so much precedence over my need to express myself to someone that isn't my pillow."

"Man, that's sad," Noah pointed out, shaking his head and sitting down on the bed next to Kurt. He smelled like Will always did after sharing his lunch hours with Miss Emma. Kurt tried not to be angry. "What do you want to talk about?"

"How do you make people like you?" Kurt blurted out, sure there was a better, more dignified way of asking, but unable to come up with it. "Everyone just sort of tolerates me because I'm Burt's son. Everyone likes you, even though you're a nobody."

Noah rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Thanks, Prince Kurt. Great way to get started. You could try not insulting people whenever you talk to them."

"It's just so difficult," Kurt insisted, "when they seem so oblivious to what's wrong with them."

"Prince," Noah said, catching Kurt's eye. "Believe me, people know what's wrong with them. They ignore it so they can get through the day without breaking down or drinking themselves into a stupor. You don't have to point it out."

"Oh," Kurt nodded, thinking about everything wrong he saw in the mirror whenever he looked. "It feels like something I should have known," he murmured. "People aren't the oblivious morons they appear to be."

Noah winced before agreeing, "Somewhat," and nodding his head. "Like Lady Santana. She's just trying to prove she's the person everyone expects her to be."

At the mention of Kurt's peer, Kurt knew whose quarters Noah had come from. "A complete harlot?"

Laughing sharply, Noah nodded and bumped his shoulder against Kurt's. "Exactly."

The gesture made Kurt feel warm, his cheeks especially, and more like forgiving Noah for doing what most boys did best – follow a pretty girl wherever she wanted him.

* * *

Noah thought his ass was toast when Kurt caught him coming back from Santana's quarters, but after a talk and some mild reassurance, the prince had dropped the issue. From there, things fell into a rhythm for the rest of the week. Noah would go with Kurt to his lessons and attend his own with Miss Pillsbury to try to drill some etiquette into his behavior, which Noah thought was stupid but he wanted his freedom more than he wanted this little bit of pride.

He played along.

He played along when he ignored the looks Princess Quinn sent him every once in a while, like she was wondering if she recognized him or not. He played along when Kurt asked his opinion on a particular outfit when usually he couldn't tell the difference between one or the other. He played along when Sir Sam asked him if he wanted to join the other men hunting, citing the fact that he was employed by the Prince, even if he was a 'distant cousin,' or whatever Kurt had said and couldn't go unless Kurt did. He played along when he met the king, stoic against Burt's assessing glare. He played along when he saw Lady Brittany leaving Lady Santana's chambers in the middle of the night, when he couldn't sleep and came down to see if she wanted another romp between the sheets.

He played along when Kurt dragged him to Church, although he refused to say any oaths or any declarations of 'amen' in front of gods who were not his Tribal God. He played along when he saw one of the monks eyeing up Prince Kurt like he was a side of beef to a starving man.

Weren't those guys supposed to be celibate in the first place? Or maybe the monk had taken his vows as a way to avoid being wed to a woman, when he obviously preferred men like Prince Kurt? Whatever his deal, Noah didn't miss the shiver of disgust when Kurt saw the monk looking at him.

Noah even played along when Princess Quinn cornered him alone in the games room, where he was waiting while Kurt met with his tailor to be fitted for some new clothes. Noah was just happy to have more than two sets of clothes to choose from – a luxury he'd never had before.

Quinn approached him sort of side-long and said quietly, "It's a miracle anyone believes you're the prince's cousin, street-boy."

Nodding, Puck moved a piece on the game he'd been playing against himself and said, "Thanks for confirming that no one forgets me, babe. Not even the princess."

"And certainly not my husband's deviant brother? What did you do to make him love you so much, Noah? I do remember you being particularly inventive in bed..."

Hating this line of questions, because he was Kurt's hired friend and nothing else, Noah pointed to Quinn's pregnant belly. "That the little prince you're carrying?"

"Of course," she nodded, circling around him. "But you don't get to change the subject on me. Now, I need to be sure you won't open your mouth about that night, Noah. You have a sister, don't you?"

Despite Quinn's sweet tone, Noah knew a threat when he heard one and he knew that the Princess would have no trouble following through, so he surged out of his chair and growled, "You won't fucking touch my sister."

"Keep your mouth shut and I won't have to," Quinn smiled, her hands resting lovingly on her stomach. "Do we have a deal?"

"I'll keep my end," Noah nodded, still fuming with fear for his sister's sake, "if you keep yours."

Quinn nodded once more and walked away, her hips swinging slightly as she did. How fucking safe was his sister, really? It's not like Noah had been bragging about his night with the princess. He hadn't even known who she was when he let her take him to bed. Why would he tell in the first place? Quinn was carrying the prince's baby and – oh, fuck. What if it wasn't Finn's? The timing was generally right for it to be Noah's instead.

Shit, what was Noah going to do?

* * *

Kurt was present, along with an unusually sulky Noah, when his brother met Rachel Berry the first time. They were singing together under Sir Ryerson's tutelage, Noah with his back to the wall like always, which Kurt did not understand, and Finn came into the room.

It wasn't the first time he'd come to see Kurt practice, but it was the first time since Noah and Rachel had arrived at the castle. Finn sat off to the side of the room, next to Kurt's slave, and listened to them sing. When the note ended on Rachel's prolonged, graceful high note, Finn applauded enthusiastically. Beside him Noah looked more uncomfortable than usual.

Finn approached Rachel to talk to her and Kurt went to Noah, asking, "Are you okay? Sir Ryerson didn't touch you again, did he? Because I told him to knock it off."

"No," Noah shook his head. "Just worried about my sister."

"Don't worry," Kurt smiled. "I'm sure she's fine and I can get one of the guardsmen to check in on her. Tonight, we party!"

"Happy Birthday," Noah replied and it looked like he was trying not to scoff. Seriously, what crawled up his butt and died? Maybe...

"Since your birthday was yesterday, I'll let you blow out the candles with me if you want? C'mon, it'll be fun!" Kurt left out the part he wanted to say about how this Royal birthday party was going to be so much better than any celebrations Noah had attended in the past, figuring it was too close to an insult. Kurt was working on holding his tongue more, and that included when he was around Noah.

"I'd rather not," he said, steadily not looking at Kurt and glancing at Finn every now and then with what appeared to be concern or guilt.

"Why not?"

Noah huffed again and finally met Kurt's eyes. "Because if you let me blow out your candles, Prince, what else will the aristocracy start to think I'm blowing?"

It took Kurt a moment to understand what Noah was inferring, but when he did, he blushed and tried not to think of the image he'd conjured in the wake of those words. "Perhaps you're right," Kurt allowed, looking back toward the room and disliking how his brother and his singing partner were staring into each other's eyes. "Best to keep everything professional, especially in public, don't you think?"

Noah nodded and stood up straighter, following Kurt when he headed for the door. "You coming to lessons, Finn?"

Surprised out of his enraptured gaze with Rachel, Finn flushed a little and said, "Yes, of course. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Rachel."

"You too, Prince Finn," the girl replied with a big smile and a low curtsey. "I hope you'll come again."

"Count on it," Finn smiled eagerly, brushing past Kurt and looking back a few times as they left the room.

When they were far enough down the corridor, Kurt caught up to be even with his brother and said, "Don't you dare try what I'm sure you're thinking about, Finn. You know Father is on thin ice with the Bishop lately. Don't go making things worse because you have a crush. You know what would happen if the Church found out you'd cheated on Princess Quinn?"

"The same thing that would happen if the Bishop found out your manservant is really a pleasure slave?" Finn asked with a growl in his voice. "Don't you lecture to me about-"

"He's not!" Kurt insisted, sparing a look for Noah, who appeared to be listening very carefully to what Kurt had to say next. "Noah is a free man. I bought him out of slavery so he could  _work_  for me, Finn. Nothing as sordid as what you're thinking. Did your  _Princess_  tell you that Rachel was a slave, too, until I freed her?"

That confused look spread across Finn's face and it was a relief to Kurt, who realized the expression meant that Finn still took him at his word, at least as equally as he believed whatever Quinn was telling him. Softly, Finn admitted, "No. She didn't tell me that." Then, Finn turned to Noah and asked, "You're truly a free man? Not a slave?"

Praying Noah would make the right choice and dissemble, Kurt held his breath, letting it out as quietly as he could when Noah shook his head. "No, prince. I'm a free man and Kurt's never been anything but proper with me." Wow, he was a good liar. Kurt would have to look out for that skill.

Finn kept that confused look on his face as he said, "Oh," letting the expression morph into something closer to anger. "If you'll excuse me, I have to have a talk with my wife."

"What about lessons?" Kurt protested. "Father wanted you to have all the treaties memorized before the party tonight!"

"I'll be there in a bit," Finn insisted, stalking off down the hall like a man on a mission.

Kurt shook his head and turned to face Noah, who still looked guilty for some reason. Sighing, Kurt told the servant, "You were right to tell my brother those half-truths, Noah. You don't have to look like a murderer."

"What?" Noah asked, looking up confused. "Who got murdered?"

"I meant," Kurt replied, taking a step closer, "you don't have to look so guilty. Unless…" he studied Noah's expression – furrowed brows and a subtle pout – and came to the conclusion, "You look guilty for a different reason. What's going on?"

Kurt's question was met simply with silence.

"I have to know, Noah. If the Bishop finds out about our arrangement and it leads to my father being unseated, you'll more likely than not be sold to someone else just to get rid of you." Taking Noah's wrist in his hand, Kurt looked up at him with his best plaintive expression, " _Please_ , tell me what's on your mind. What did you do?"

"I can't…" Noah sighed. "I mean, she'll hurt my  _sister_ , Kurt. I can't take that risk, even if it means spending my life as a slave."

"And destabilizing the entire kingdom in the process?"

"Not my problem," the servant replied, setting his jaw so Kurt would know he wasn't going to change his mind.

"Fine," Kurt sighed, leading the way toward the tutors' space and making a mental note to send one of his trusted knights, like Sir Arthur, to go check on the whereabouts of little Sarah Puckerman.

* * *

"So," Bishop Figgins asked Kurt, cornering him near the dais just after Rachel's performance and before the birthday cake was to be cut, "how does it feel to come of age, Prince Kurt? The Church is expecting great things from you, son."

Kurt wanted to punch the Bishop in his face and insist that he wasn't the man's son, but instead he smiled politely and replied, "To tell the truth, it doesn't feel too much different than turning fifteen, though I suppose my upcoming marriage to Lady Brittany will change all that."

"Oh, yes," the clergyman nodded, giving Noah a confused look when the servant arrived and handed Kurt a glass of champagne, playing the doting manservant to a T despite his obvious turmoil over whatever secret he was keeping. "I … uh, I was pleased to hear of the nuptials. When will I have the honor of presiding over the happy event?"

Kurt had just barely arranged the wedding with Brittany and her father the day before, so he smiled and said, "I'm not sure, to be honest. I'm sure Lady Brittany will want to spend quite a while planning the event."

"I'm sure," the Bishop nodded before waving to Lady Sue and saying, "If you'll excuse me, Prince?"

Kurt nodded and let out the breath he'd been half-holding as soon as Bishop Figgins was out of earshot. Turning to Noah, Kurt said, "Thank you."

"For what?" Noah asked, like he was genuinely surprised. "I was just doing my job, wasn't I?"

"Of course," Kurt allowed, taking a sip of the champagne Noah had given him. "But I'm fairly certain your presence saved me from more than a few uncomfortable questions about marriage and babies and things."

"What are you going to do?" Noah asked, his eyes searching the crowd until he found Ladies Brittany and Santana standing close together near the refreshment table, gossiping, as Kurt had a moment before. "I mean, you're going to have to consummate the marriage, right? That's how these things work, isn't it?"

"Mmm," Kurt agreed, frowning into his champagne. "I'll do what my kingdom requires of me, especially after my father…" Kurt wasn't so sure how much he should tell Noah about the deal he'd struck with Burt so he could buy Noah in the first place.

"After your father what?" Noah asked, looking over at Kurt with a leading grin, the first smile Kurt had seen on the boy all day. "Grew wings and started squawking like a damn chicken?"

Kurt covered his mouth as he laughed uncontrollably before hitting Noah lightly on the arm and scolding him, "You can't say things like that here! It's practically treason to insult the king."

Noah's eyes found Burt next, who was still sitting up on the dais with Carole and Princess Quinn. "He seems like he wouldn't mind a joke or two."

"Oh, he doesn't," Kurt agreed, catching Noah's gaze before pointing out to the ballroom full of noblemen. "It's them you have to worry about. Some are woefully lacking a sense of humor."

"I suppose," Noah said, shrugging and finishing off his drink, "that if I was going to be bought by a nobleman, I'm glad it was you."

Kurt's heart warmed and he could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was it just flattery for flattery's sake, because Noah knew it was better for his future to stay on Kurt's good side or…? "Do you actually mean that?"

"Sure," Noah sighed, reaching for Kurt's half-empty glass. "I'll freshen that up for you." Still wide-eyed at his servant's declaration, Kurt let go of his glass and watched Noah walk away, trying not to admire his form too much, since they were in the presence of some very dangerous company.

Speak of the devil, Brother David approached Kurt next, making the hairs on the back of the prince's neck stand up with fear. "Prince Kurt," he sneered, throwing a heavy arm around Kurt's shoulders, "Happy Birthday!"

David reeked of alcohol, so Kurt said as politely as he could, "I smell you've been taking full advantage of the amenities my father provided for the celebration. I hope morning prayers won't be too painful for you."

David took his arm away from Kurt, insisting, "I'm not drunk! Monks don't get drunk, Prince. We imb… imb…  _drink_  in moderation!"

"Of course you do," Kurt replied, wondering how rude he could be to the man without angering the Bishop and thus his father.

"You're a man now, Prince," Brother David continued, scoffing loudly. "Sure as hell don't look like one, though."

Looking around for someone he could pull into the conversation and put between him and the monk, Kurt asked, "Must you insult me at my own birthday party?"

"Hey, I'm just stating a fact. It's not my fault you look all girly," David said, leaning a little closer, "with soft hair and red lips…" The monk's eyes narrowed in on Kurt's mouth then, and Kurt knew what was coming, so he tore himself away from the conversation as violently as he could, heading for Noah, who was returning with two full glasses of champagne. He only made it about two steps before a strong hand closed around his wrist.

Heart beating in overtime, Kurt turned around and hissed at David, "What do you think you're doing? You may be the Bishop's right hand, but that gives you absolutely no privileges when it comes to touching my royal person. Let go!"

"Why do you have to play so hard to get?" David asked as he made a show of releasing Kurt's wrist. "If we were lovers, I could give you so much power as the right hand of the Bishop. C'mon Kurt, I know you want this as much as I do. Why else would you buy a pleasure slave like that?" David nodded over Kurt's shoulder to what had to be Noah approaching.

"I did no such thing," Kurt insisted. "Noah is a distant relative on my mother's side and I've taken him into my household as a manservant; that is all. I'm sure you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting,  _Brother_  David, as such an insult would not only be against me, but my father the King as well."

"Hoo-hoo!" the monk exclaimed, more of his alcohol-tinged breath infecting the air between them. "Little Prince sure knows how to use his words. We both know what you are, Kurt. And don't you worry, I'll be praying for you this rest day."

Noah's voice came from over Kurt's shoulder as the boy said, "Maybe you should pray for yourself, monk. You seem like you could use some divine help. Or was this just how you were born?"

"How dare-!" Brother David started to gasp, but Kurt cut him off.

"While I appreciate the gesture, Noah, your words were highly out of place! Brother David is a high cleric in the Church and Bishop Figgins' right hand. You must apologize to him at once." Kurt hated saying the words and the look on Noah's face made Kurt believe he hated hearing them just as much. He opened his mouth to argue, but Kurt said sternly, "Now, Noah. Or shall I be forced to terminate your employment?"

Noah clenched his jaw in anger before turning to Brother David and growling, "I am sorry for offending you, Brother. I did not know you were held in such high esteem by your Church."

Kurt winced. Possibly the only thing clergymen disliked more than critics were Tribes people, which you could see Noah was, given the suggestion. Brother David's mind was visibly working around to that fact, so Kurt said, "There, all settled! I'm sure we'll run into each other again, Brother David. Good luck keeping your vows."

Then, he pulled Noah away from the monk and straight out of the party, into the servants' area where no one would think to look for them. "You can't do that!" he cried as soon as they were alone. "Brother David is far too powerful for a servant like you to make fun of him like that."

"Too bad," Noah grimaced, pushing both glasses of champagne into Kurt's hands before crossing his arms over his chest. "He was messing with you, so I figured that was better than punching his damn smug face."

Kurt felt, in that instant, what it was like to fall a little bit in love. He wasn't looking for romantic gestures like saving him from the big bad man, since he was a Prince of Lima and could take care of himself. But still, someone besides his father looking out for him was new to Kurt and he had to say, he enjoyed it. Gods, was he blushing?

"Th-thank you," he managed to stutter out, "but I was handling the situation. Let me do the politics, alright, Noah?"

"Says the guy that can't help but insult his peers with every other breath..." Noah replied with a smirk, to show he was teasing.

Kurt affected a scowl, but he couldn't keep the edges of his lips from twitching upward for very long. Maybe it was Kurt's imagination, but he thought he and Noah might have been sharing a moment before someone hurried into the room loudly.

Armor clanking as he walked, Sir Arthur approached Kurt, adjusting his spectacles and muttering, "There you are!" As if realizing he was addressing the Prince, Arthur then dropped to one knee and bowed. "My lord, I have done as you commanded."

Pleased, Kurt asked, "And...?"

"Sire," Arthur looked up, his brows crunched violently together, "the girl you had me look for has been sold! She went through Lord Remington's auction, so we should be able to..."

"What's he talking about?" Noah asked. "Is this about my sister?"

Putting a careful hand on Noah's arm, Kurt answered him, "Yes, but I promise you, I will find her."

"Fuck that!" he blurted out, snatching his arm away. "I'll go find her. Sarah's  _my_  sister! I'm the one who practically raised her since she was born. She's  _my_  responsibility."

"Noah," Kurt said in his best no-nonsense voice, "how do you expect to find her without my resources? What do you expect to do if you do find her?"

Kurt could see Noah work through this conundrum before muttering, "I'd just take her back."

"And spend the rest of your life on the run before being hanged as a thief?" Kurt pointed out. "No. You'll stay here with me and Sir Arthur will find your sister. Once we know who owns her, we'll know how to proceed."

"Why do you even care?" Noah asked, clenching his jaw and angrily wiping a tear away from the corner of his eye. "It's not like I'm important. It's not like my sister is important, either!"

Kurt sighed and went through a few of his possible responses, and taking into account Sir Arthur's continued presence before answering, "I want to end slavery, Noah. I want to get rid of the vile practice and if I could, I would buy all the sales and set them free. I guess I'm just starting with your family because I don't know where else to start."

"She's young and pretty," Noah scoffed. "You sure you have the money to buy her?"

"Maybe not," Kurt agreed, "but I have other resources as well. Please say you'll stay here in the palace and out of trouble?"

Noah dithered for a bit, searching Kurt's eyes and then giving Sir Arthur an up-and-down look. Then, he nodded briskly and took one of the glasses of champagne Kurt had set down on the sideboard, swallowing it in one, long gulp.

Kurt wondered how much trouble his promise to Noah was going to get him into and whether or not he would have made the same promises if he wasn't starting to fall in love with the boy. Kurt should have known better. He should have known that Noah didn't love him back.

* * *

As the party continued on, Noah got steadily more drunk, doing his best to hide it whenever Kurt looked his way. What good was the word of a prince? No seriously, Noah didn't know. He'd grown up hearing tales of nobles who went back on their word like it was nothing and tales of nobles who would die for the sake of a simple promise. Although Kurt seemed more pragmatic than the latter example, Noah's gut told him the prince didn't match the former either. Damn, he'd spent too much time in the company of the elite if he was starting to use words like former and latter in his own mind. Maybe it was just the alcohol.

Princess Quinn had been giving Noah looks all night which were half-leering and half-threatening which was bad enough and then Kurt had to get cornered by that unpleasant monk and then Noah's worst fears were realized when word came that his mother had sold his sister as well. It took everything Noah had, and as many glasses of champagne as he could drink to keep from running out of the castle and searching the entire kingdom door-to-door. Of course if he was to do that, he'd be violating his agreement with the prince and as soon as he was caught, he'd be right back in the slave pens, waiting to be sold to someone else. No, his best chance of ever seeing his sister again was to stick close to the prince, maybe even make the guy love him, because Noah had learned in his short, harsh life that nothing was more powerful than love.

It was a shame his mother had never really loved her children more than she loved her alcohol. Eying one last glass of champagne, Noah set the drink down. He wanted nothing less than becoming as unhinged and destructive as his mother on a bender.

Lady Santana whispered in Noah's ear about a post-celebration romp, but he brushed her off, citing his duty to the prince. The prince. Kurt stood, talking to Sir Sam and the boy's father, and Noah watched him. What would it take to get the prince to love him? If Noah was right, and he often was when it came to seduction, the prince was already a little bit in love with him. Noah just had to seal the deal somehow. The right words, perhaps a well-timed kiss...

Wait, who was that, now joining the group? As Noah approached his master, he studied the newcomer, who was a young man, maybe a year or two older than Noah, and he had a less-than average stature, but a wide, friendly smile and dark, shiny, slicked-back hair. Noah did not miss the fond way the nobleman looked at Prince Kurt and realized, despite the alcohol in his system, that he might have some competition.

"Lord Blaine was just telling me the other day," said Sam's father, whose name Noah thought might be Henry, "how eager he was to meet you, Prince Kurt."

"Uh-huh," Kurt replied, raising a suspicious eyebrow in the newcomer's direction, but with a smile in his eyes and on the corners of his lips. "What venture would you have me back, Lord Blaine? I must warn you, whatever financial leeway my father gives me is oft spent before a single silver hits the bottom of my pocket."

The entire group laughed, but all Noah could do was stand at Kurt's elbow and glare. Kurt could be charming when he wanted to be, even before Noah's intervention. Lord Blaine was eating it up and blushing at Kurt's joke.

"I assure you, your highness," Blaine replied, looking down at his feet for a bit before turning that stunning smile on Kurt, "I just wanted to meet the famous younger prince of Lima. Word is you have a taste for high fashion, as do I, and I was hoping to discuss the topic with you."

God damn, what a kiss-ass! And all Noah could do was stand at Kurt's elbow, fetch him drinks and treats and things like a damn dog, and try not to glare too hard whenever Lord Blaine made Kurt laugh.

* * *

It took a few anxious weeks before Noah heard anything about his sister. He and Kurt had been practicing fencing together - Noah was getting much better, thank you very much - when Sir Arthur found them again. Noah thought the man looked more like a scholar or maybe a monk than a knight, but Kurt assured him he was the best person for the job, especially since they'd grown up together in the castle and Kurt trusted Arthur completely.

"Prince," the knight bowed quickly, "Mr. Puckerman. It seems that Sarah has been bought into Lady Sue's household."

When Kurt gasped, Noah knew this couldn't be good news. "What does that mean?"

Kurt didn't answer, instead asking his liegeman, "Was she bought for...?"

"No!" Arthur replied quickly. "No. Apparently Sue is training a cadre of young slaves to be a dance troupe of some renown. Wants to parade them around at jousts and other sporting events."

"Hmm," Kurt replied, putting his chin in his hand to think.

"What will happen to her?" Noah asked, afraid to know the answer, but needing it anyway.

"I'm not sure," Kurt told him, laying a gentle hand on Noah's arm. "I think she should be alright for now. I have to try and think of a way to get her out of there, though, before Lady Sue decides to give her or sell her away to an ally or other high bidder. I'll do everything I can."

Noah nodded and took a big breath. He supposed it was better knowing now that Sarah was safe for the moment than worrying that she'd been sold to some old pervert who only liked children. He shivered as Kurt turned to the knight and said, "Thank you, Sir Arthur. You may go with my gratitude."

Arthur nodded and gave Noah a sympathetic glance before leaving them alone in the training field. Turning back to the prince, Noah asked, "Did you mean that? Why would you even try to get my sister back? Lady Sue is like, your biggest enemy and extremely powerful."

Kurt shrugged a little and poked at the grass below his feet with the end of his wooden training sword. "I guess…" he said slowly, sparing a quick glance for Noah. "I guess I just couldn't stand seeing you in so much pain, Noah. I know what it's like to lose a sister, even if she died before birth. I didn't want you to go through that too."

Noah's heart swelled and despite all his carefully laid plans to make Kurt fall in love with him, he wanted to do more than squeeze the prince's shoulder in thanks. However, there were others in the practice field and he didn't want to give them any reason to discredit Kurt. The prince was Noah's lifeline out of slavery and his sister's salvation. Keeping him in power and keeping him enamored with him was Noah's top priority.

"Thank you, my lord," he said instead, hoping his eyes conveyed the rest of the message.

Kurt nodded and closed his mouth with a snap, looking away and laughing a little nervously, "And Miss Emma said you'd never learn your manners."

Noah smiled and backed up a few steps, raising his wooden sword to face off against Kurt again. The more he could learn about using a weapon like this, Noah figured the better his chances of actually being able to save his sister would become.

* * *

Kurt felt like something was changing about his manservant with every passing day, but he didn't know exactly what. Noah was growing more polite, especially in public, and he appeared to be watching everything around him more intently than he ever had before – almost like he was trying to learn as much as he could.

Maybe he thought it would help with getting his sister back. Gods willing, it would. Kurt only had two eyes and very few true allies. Another person watching the interactions between his peers and the others in the court couldn't hurt.

Noah had begun paying closer attention in lessons, too, especially those with Will, where matters of state were discussed. Will had been hesitant to let Noah into the meeting, but Kurt had given the steward his best pleading look until he got his way.

"But why do you want him there, Kurt?" Will had asked, talking quietly so that Noah couldn't hear them from the other side of the room. "He's still a slave. How do you know he's not going to take all this information directly to Lady Sue, or gods forbid, the Carmelites themselves?"

"He's my friend," Kurt replied, willing the statement to be true, even if he wasn't quite sure it was. "I want Noah to know that I trust him, so that he trusts me in turn. Not only that, he's keeping something from me, Will. Something important and I think it has to do with Finn. How will he ever trust me enough to tell it if I won't let him see everything in my life?"

Will thought for a moment before nodding uneasily. "It's on your head, though, if he misuses this information."

"Understood," Kurt replied, letting Will lead the way back to the large table where Finn sat glaring at his hands and Noah sat, trying to ignore the fact that Finn existed in the first place.

At the second meeting, Finn seemed to just accept Noah's presence there as a matter of course, especially when Kurt asked him to carry a few books, for appearances sake.

"I'm beginning to think," Noah said, three months after Kurt's birthday celebration, as they left a particularly dull lesson about the history of the kingdom, "that this 'for appearances sake' line is all bullshit. You just like me waiting on you hand and foot."

Kurt smirked and took a few of the books from the top of Noah's pile, replying, "Maybe. One has to admit you do have a knack for menial labor."

Noah laughed and continued following Kurt to his chambers, setting the books on Kurt's writing desk and dropping down onto one of the sofas with a grunt. Kurt sat beside him and put his feet up as well, letting his head rest on the sofa's back.

"How can you stand all these lessons?" Noah asked, kicking off his shoes, even though this wasn't his room. Kurt didn't object. "I mean, I get that they're important so you know how to run the kingdom or whatever, but what does it matter whether King Jervis the Eighth had six wives or seven?"

"Because the seventh wife," Kurt explained, "was the one who killed him in his sleep and she was a Carmelite in disguise."

"How do you know I'm not a Carmelite?" Noah asked with a little laugh. "Maybe you should lock your door at night."

"First," Kurt explained with a smile, wondering just how often Noah checked that the door between them remained unlocked, "I know exactly who your mother is and where you were born and who your friends were before I bought you, thanks to Sir Arthur."

"Damned spy," Noah scoffed, but he didn't seem to mind how much Kurt knew about him.

"And second, I know how much your sister means to you and how hard I'm still working on a plan to get her away from Lady Sue. By the way, I'm thinking of employing my wife-to-be on that front. She's always been a favorite of Lady Sue's and while Brittany isn't any good at subterfuge, I think I can get some of the information I need without her being any wiser."

Noah turned so he was facing Kurt and asked, "How's that?"

"I'll ask Rachel to pose as one of her handmaidens," Kurt explained, heart fluttering at the look of hope on Noah's face. "She'll keep her eyes and ears open for anything and everything we can use against Lady Sue – see if I can't get her to trade one slave for a promise not to reveal any damaging information I might find."

Nodding, the manservant asked, "What if Rachel says no?"

Kurt smiled as he met the boy's eyes and told him, "She already said yes."

There was a pause, for just a moment, and then suddenly Kurt had hands framing his face and lips pressed tightly against his own. Good gods, it felt amazing, sending shivering tingles down his spine and then scaring him, because what if someone walked in? Conflicted, Kurt pushed Noah away gently, asking, "What was that?"

Suddenly looking uncomfortable, Noah backed off and stood up, pacing away for a few steps with one hand over his eyes. Still not looking at Kurt, the servant asked, "Gratitude?" like he wasn't sure either.

Kurt nodded before saying quietly, "While I appreciate the gesture, I don't think it's a good id-"

"I know," Noah cut him off, meeting Kurt's eyes for a brief moment. "I know it's wrong and I'm just here to be your friend. Forget it happened."

"Alright," Kurt agreed, thinking to himself there was no way he'd ever forget that kiss – it had been only his second after the one Brother David had forced on him. In principle, Noah's kiss had also been forced, but Kurt had felt so much safer at this simple brush of lips in a heated moment than he had when Brother David had cornered him and kissed Kurt so roughly it bruised.

* * *

Noah had ruined everything. He'd kissed the prince too early, before all of his plans were in place. Kurt was supposed to be begging for Noah's attention before he finally let that first kiss go. Instead, Noah had given it away at the simple mention of a plan that could very well fail to get his sister away from Lady Sue's household.

He'd just felt so overwhelmingly  _grateful_  that Noah couldn't help but do it, press his lips into the prince's and just feel the boy melt between his hands. The worst thing about it, though, was that Noah was pretty sure he wanted to do it again. He didn't know if it was the rush of power he got from seeing the prince – the king's fucking son – blush between his hands or if it was his recent foray into being "good" and not seeing any of the Ladies or the servants after dark, but Noah knew it was going to get him in trouble sooner rather than later.

He just hoped it was later, after Kurt managed to save his sister.

That night, when Kurt knocked on their shared door as he opened it, calling softly, "Noah?" he'd thought his luck had changed – that his plan had worked and Kurt was here for something physical that only Noah could give him. Well, Noah could in  _theory_  give it to him. He'd never put his love-making skill to the test with a man before.

"I'm here, Prince," Noah replied softly, sitting up in his bed and letting the covers fall away from his bare chest. "What is it?"

"I was thinking," Kurt replied as he walked forward, wearing his pristine sleep clothes, which looked like they were ironed right before he'd put them on. "That maybe, just maybe … you'd be willing to tell me what you did that makes you feel so guilty around Finn."

Oh, that.

"Shit," Noah sighed, putting his head in both hands, elbows propped on his covered knees. "Come here," he requested, motioning the prince toward his bed, "in case someone's listening at the door."

"What could be so damaging?" Kurt asked, but he stepped closer, daring to sit on the edge of Noah's bed.

Speaking softly, Noah confessed everything – about how he used to have a reputation before his mother sold him, about random liaisons with women and girls he didn't know, and about Princess Quinn. "I spent the night with her, a few weeks before the big wedding celebration took over the city. I didn't know who she was, I swear."

"Spent the night…?" Kurt asked delicately, but urging Noah to elaborate because he had to know more.

Getting right down to it, Noah said as brashly as he could, "I fucked her. She practically begged me to. And now she recognizes me and threatened Sarah and if she finds out I told you, my sister is as good as dead, Kurt."

Fuck, was Noah crying? He wasn't the kind of man who cried, not ever. Angrily he wiped away a few tears before Kurt caught his hand and held it, meeting Noah's eyes with sympathy and sadness. Then he said softly, "She threatened you because there's a chance the baby isn't Finn's. No wonder you've been keeping this to yourself."

Noah scoffed and worked his fingers into the prince's, not caring what it looked like, just that it felt nice. Getting everything out in the open felt nice as well.

"Thank you," Kurt said, using one finger to pull Noah's chin up so he would meet the prince's eyes. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I agree we have to be very careful about how we handle this information, but my first priority is still making sure your sister is safe. Once she's out of Lady Sue's household, no one can use her against us."

There it was again – that gratitude surging through Noah's body, making him want to do all sorts of inappropriate things with his master. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment before Kurt took the initiative this time and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against Noah's lips.

Here in the dark of his bedchamber, with no one else around, the kiss felt so real and so right that Noah just let himself give in and feel it. Blood surging, he protested when Kurt pulled away, needing so urgently now the feel of a warm body next to his and the belief that the prince thought Noah was worth all this trouble, all this intrigue and the danger of getting his sister free.

"Don't go," Noah whispered, his hand still holding Kurt's tightly.

"I must," Kurt replied, untangling his fingers and pressing another kiss to Noah's forehead. "I am a Prince of Lima and you are my friend, Noah. It can't happen this way. It's not done."

Noah sighed and nodded, letting the prince slip away and listening to him leave the room, shutting the door between them softly. He stared up at the dark coverings of his four-poster, wondering how everything had turned around on him.

Instead of Noah seducing the prince, the prince had seduced him. Kurt just didn't know it. It reminded Noah of one of their fencing bouts, where he'd try to get past Kurt's defenses, only to find himself slain by a strike he hadn't seen coming. Then he thought about how much fun those mock-battles were and how they got the blood pumping and how one of these days Noah was just going to have to shove Kurt down into the mud and get fulfilled this need he suddenly had to take Kurt apart, piece by piece.

That led to him thinking about how exactly to accomplish that and how it might go and what it might feel like and how Kurt was just a few feet away really and then Noah was out of bed and hurrying into the prince's room as quietly as he could with an uncomfortable stiffness between his legs. Kurt must still have been awake, too, because he sat up and gave Noah a questioning look in the dim lamplight.

"I don't give a fuck about how things are done," Noah admitted, striding over to stand next to Kurt's bed so he could speak softly and still be heard. "I don't care why you bought me or what you wanted from me a few months ago. Do you want me, right now? Because I know I want you."

Kurt sat very still for the longest few seconds of Noah's life before kneeling up on his bed so they were of a height and reaching out to pull Noah close. "No one can ever know," he demanded, stroking one hand down Noah's stubble-roughened cheek. "Not Will, not Rachel, and definitely not Finn. This can't change how we interact in public and-"

"I got it," Noah chuckled, leaning into Kurt's touch. "But you do want...?"

"Gods, yes," Kurt sighed, pulling Noah into a deeper kiss than the ones they'd shared before. Noah was used to being wanted this way, but very few times before had it meant this much to him. The god damned prince of Lima wanted Noah in his bed, was desperately pulling on Noah's sleep shirt and was slipping his hands underneath.

Never one to be outmatched in the bedroom, especially by a virgin, Noah pushed Kurt back onto the mattress, covering the prince's hot, supple form with his body. Pulling on those perfect sleep clothes, Noah attacked Kurt's neck with kisses, pleased with himself when he gasped.

"Shh," Noah reminded him, pulling the shirt over Kurt's head to expose miles of pristine, delicious-looking skin.

Kurt met Noah's eyes and laughed softly, his blush ruddy in the lamplight. "I didn't mean to make that noise..."

"Prince," Noah murmured, his lips against Kurt's neck as he inhaled the heady scent behind his ear, "if we were all alone in this world, I would make you scream for joy with every touch."

Kurt shuddered as he laughed again and pressed his hardness against Noah's hipbone. "One might take that as a promise."

"Mmm," Noah agreed, finding he didn't really mind the differences that went along with Kurt being male. Especially not when Kurt dug his fingers into the back of Noah's skull and pulled him in for their wildest kiss yet.

* * *

The first thought Kurt had upon waking just before dawn was that he hoped the door to his bedchamber was locked, because Noah was still there, sleeping beside him naked. They hadn't done everything, but they had certainly taken their enjoyment in each other, the memory of breaking into ecstasy under Noah's hands making Kurt shudder in remembered pleasure.

Gods, he hoped this wasn't a one-time thing. Noah had told him about his past with women and all that knowledge just flew right out of Kurt's head when he was faced with a naked boy who wanted him as well. Pressing a hopeful kiss to Noah's well-muscled shoulder, Kurt got out of bed, wrapped a dressing gown around himself, and went to lock both his bedroom door and the door to Noah's quarters.

Kurt debated starting to get ready for the day, but decided it was too early yet and crawled back into bed, sighing as he fit himself against Noah's warm back and slid an arm around his waist. There was no more denying that Kurt was what he was. But what about Noah? He was obviously capable of being with women in a way that Kurt just wasn't. Did his presence in Kurt's bed mean he had the same sort of affection for Kurt, or had he done this just out of gratitude or duty or even pity?

To be honest with himself, Kurt had secretly, in a deep part of his heart, been hoping for this outcome since he first saw the flyer for the slave auction. Now he couldn't stand the thought that Noah was still a slave. It weighed on him heavily, making tears spring forth from Kurt's eyes.

Noah must have been awake and heard him, because the guy turned around in Kurt's arms and met his eyes, reaching up to brush a tear away from Kurt's cheek. "I didn't think I was that bad," Noah said softly, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

Kurt laughed and shook his head, saying, "You were wonderful. It's just that..."

Not quite sure how to finish the sentence, Kurt was surprised when Noah nodded and said, "It's morning," before carding his fingers back through Kurt's hair in a way that made the prince shudder with renewed want. To that end, Kurt pulled Noah into a long, needy kiss, hoping his advance wouldn't be rejected now that it was daylight.

It wasn't.

Later, once Noah had gathered his clothes and retired back to his own room and Kurt was sitting in his bath, regretfully washing Noah's scent from his skin, he came to a decision.

Once dressed and after breakfast, Kurt left Noah behind and sought out Will, finding him in the king's study, alone. "What is it, Prince Kurt?" Will asked. "You look like you've run here."

Rubbing at the blush on his cheeks, Kurt said, "I want to file the paperwork to set Noah free early. I don't feel it is in anyone's best interest for me to own him anymore, especially not with the Bishop poking around as my nuptials to Lady Brittany draw closer. Do you agree?"

Will looked surprised for a moment, but then laughed shortly and nodded, "I agree completely, prince. May I ask what prompted this decision?"

Kurt debated lying to the steward, but he was one of the people Kurt trusted most, as did Kurt's father. Stepping closer to Will, Kurt whispered, "My relationship with Noah has changed. I don't feel right about-"

"No," Will nodded, "and why would you? Though, have you given any thought to what Noah might do once he learns he's a free man?"

Kurt wanted to say of course Noah would stay, but maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would take the opportunity and leave. Kurt couldn't stand the thought so he decided, "We won't tell him. Set up an account for his servant's wages to be deposited into. When the year is up, he'll have his freedom and his proper payment."

"If that's what you think is best," Will nodded. "Just be careful, Kurt. I've been hearing whispers about what might happen if Princess Quinn's child is male. Bad things for Burt and for you. You can't jeopardize your marriage to Brittany, which could very well stabilize your position as second in line for the throne, because of one servant."

Kurt wanted to tell Will he was being overdramatic, but he knew the steward was right. So, Kurt nodded and asked, "You'll draw up the paperwork for me to sign?"

"Right away," Will replied, sitting back down at his desk, which Kurt took as his sign to leave and go give Rachel one last set of instructions before she headed off for Brittany's household.

* * *

"He did just what you expected, Sire," Will's voice said from just over Burt's shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Who did what?" Burt asked, watching his brother round the writing desk and sit opposite him. Will had this satisfied grin on his face, which confused Burt because the steward had said "he" so he couldn't be talking about his affair with Miss Emma.

"Your son, Kurt," Will replied, unrolling a piece of parchment and sliding it in front of Burt, who had to hold it further and further away these days to make the letters legible. "He's ordered me to draw up the papers for Noah Puckerman's freedom. Shall I have him sign mock papers or show him that Noah's been free almost this entire time?"

"Mock papers," Burt decided, knowing his younger son was too good a person to live with owning a slave on his conscious for very long, but not wanting Kurt to know Burt had freed his slave behind his back only a few days after the purchase. "Do you know what spurred this change of heart?"

"Not exactly," Will shook his head, watching as Burt rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Will. "But Kurt did say his relationship with the boy had changed."

"Ah." Burt knew his son. He knew that the boy would fall in love easily, now that he was involved in a physical relationship with his manservant. On the one hand, he was happy for Kurt, but on the other? On the other hand, with love came weakness. If this Noah had any reason to, he could manipulate Kurt so easily and Burt shuddered at the thought. "Bring the boy to see me here in chambers," Burt ordered his steward. "Don't let Kurt know this is where you're taking him."

"Yes, Sire," Will replied, striding from the room and leaving Burt to his thoughts again.

This development with his son might also affect his planned marriage to Lady Brittany, though if his eyes throughout the castle were to be believed, Brittany might be more willing to accept a certain  _arrangement_  than many of the other noblewomen Kurt's age. If he could just get an heir on her, just one, their family legacy would be that much more difficult to topple. The people loved Kurt, for the most part, and if he had a son, proving he was a capable  _man_ , there would be very little resistance to Burt naming Kurt his heir, rather than Finn.

He would have liked to see Finn crowned, but while he was in love with Princess Quinn, who had ties to both the Bishop and Lady Sue, he couldn't be trusted. Burt hoped that he would be able to meet this Noah boy face-to-face and determine if he was the lesser of two evils. If the future king was to have a companion he loved, Burt would rather not see Princess Quinn with that power.

* * *

Noah had been having a very good morning – waking up the way he did, seeing Lady Brittany and the rest of her household (Rachel included) off on their trip to Lady Sue's estate, exchanging saliva again with Kurt before fencing lessons out in the yard, and now enjoying a good meal in the prince's company – when Will arrived at the door to the royal dining chamber and asked for him.

"What's this about?" Kurt asked in Noah's place, setting a hand on Noah's arm like he didn't want him to go. The servant thought it was sweet, but unwise, so he pulled his arm away and stayed seated while his master and the king's steward spoke.

"Miss Emma needs to leave the castle fairly soon, to attend to a sick relative," Will explained. "She wondered if Noah would like to receive his etiquette lessons now, while you continue on to meet with your tutors, prince."

"Oh," Kurt nodded, smiling over to Noah, which the servant had to fight not to react to. "That's fine. Go along please, Noah."

"Sure," he replied, taking a few last bites of his meal and swallowing the last of his wine – he still thought ale was better – before getting up and following the steward from the room.

After the first few turns, Noah pointed out, "This isn't the way to Miss Emma's rooms."

"No, it isn't," Will replied, looking back to give Noah a friendly smile. "The king requested an audience with you, Mister Puckerman. Would you refuse him?"

The  _king_? Oh, shit. Noah hadn't ever talked to the king directly. Sometimes he was around, speaking to Kurt or Finn, but most of the time when the prince was in his father's company, he left Noah behind. "What does he want?"

"Just to talk to you," Will assured him. "He's been meaning to do it for ages, since you're in a position so close to his son. He finally got the time today."

"And Kurt doesn't know about it because…?"

Will shrugged. "The king's reasoning is his own."

Palms sweating and heart beating rapidly, Noah followed Will toward the king's chambers, swallowing an excess of nervous saliva just before he was shown into the king's presence. Burt sat at a large writing desk in fairly informal clothing, as far as the aristocracy went, and looked up at Noah, his eyes piercing right into Noah's chest.

"Sit down, son," the king ordered, pointing to a chair opposite from him and shuffling a stack of papers together. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, Sire," Noah managed to croak, taking his seat and watching as Will left him utterly and completely alone with the king.

"I understand," Burt chuckled, wiping ink from his hand on a dirty-looking rag. "It's not often a slave gets a sit-down meeting with the king, is it?"

"No, Sire," he replied, unable to keep the man's gaze for more than half a second before looking down into his lap. Of course the king would have to remind Noah that he  _was_  a slave and not the lower-aristocrat in the prince's service that he'd been pretending to be.

After a long moment of silence, when Noah wondered whether or not the king could see the sweat pooling beneath his armpits, Burt finally asked, "Do you love him?"

Confused, and not wanting to believe the king had found out about his visit to Kurt's bed so quickly, Noah asked, "I'm not sure what you're asking, Your Highness."

"My son, Kurt," Burt replied, emphasizing each word as he spoke. "Do you love him? I need to know, because I can't let you get too close to my son without knowing what kind of man you are, Noah Puckerman."

After thinking on the question for a moment, Noah replied honestly, "I-I don't know. He's been a better friend to me these past few months than I ever would have dreamed possible."

"Do you feel in his debt?"

Noah had to think about that question, too, under the king's watchful, penetrating glare. "Yes," Noah decided. "I will even more so if he's able to secure my sister's freedom. I don't know if that's a debt that can ever be repaid."

Burt sort of harrumphed before he admitted, "I don't like it. I don't like the risks Kurt is taking for you or your sister. I don't like knowing your presence in his life could mean the disastrous ruin of his marriage to Lady Brittany. I don't like you being so close to my son without knowing your full agenda, Mister Puckerman. What can you do to ease my doubts? I don't have to allow your presence here in my castle…"

Noah wasn't sure whether he loved Kurt or whether he was just so grateful to the prince he felt like he did, but he knew he didn't want to be separated from the prince. Not yet. Not when his sister's wellbeing was still in danger, not while he still wanted to be in Kurt's bed and in his life so much more than he wanted his freedom. Not while he could still taste Kurt's skin on his tongue.

"I could-" Noah began, trying to come up with something on the spot and wishing he had Kurt's wit and ability to think so quickly on his feet. "I could report to you, Sire. I hear a lot of what goes on among the younger nobles, even more than Kurt does. They stopped holding their tongues around me ages ago."

"Interesting," the king admitted, watching Noah expectantly, like he should be offering more.

"And the first thing I can tell you," Noah blurted out, wondering where the hell his mouth got off bringing that up, "is about Princess Quinn."

The king looked intrigued as he asked, "Princess Quinn? What about her?"

Cringing at the risk he was about to take, Noah admitted, "Her baby may not be Finn's rightful heir. I mean, it could be mine, Sire. She wasn't a virgin on her wedding night."

Burt seemed to take in all this information calmly, but Noah could see him seething under the surface, his lips pressed tightly together and his jaw clenched in anger.

"I didn't know who she was," Noah explained, trying not to flash back to either the incident in question or the way he told Kurt his secret the night before. "I didn't know she was your son's fiancée, only that I met her in a pub and she wanted me. If she knew I told you, Sire, she said would have my sister killed."

"And she wants to be  _queen_ ," Burt laughed ruefully, putting his head into his hands. He thought for a moment before meeting Noah's eyes and ordering, "Okay. This is what you're going to do for me, son. Stay as close to Kurt as you can. Be his shadow, be his everything. Make him love you – which shouldn't be difficult, if I know my son – and make sure to keep your eyes and ears open for everything that happens around him. I want only what's best for my son, Noah, and that will include his marriage to Brittany and producing an heir, despite his preferences or any feelings he might have for you. Do you understand?"

Noah swallowed and nodded, pushing down a flare of jealousy at the thought.

"You will report to me and together we will help Kurt become who he needs to be – the next King of Lima."

Surprised, Noah asked, "Finn…?"

"As much as I love my older son," Burt sighed, "he cannot be trusted to do what is best for the kingdom, not with that snake at his side. Now, do you want to be at  _Kurt's_  side – as his most trusted aide and ally – when he's crowned, Noah? Or will others be able to turn you away from him? A pretty girl perhaps?"

"As long as my sister is safe," Noah replied, the king's words burning determination into his heart, "no one could make me hurt him, Your Highness. Not even you."

Burt smiled broadly and held his hand out toward Noah, "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Keep this attitude up," he added as Noah leaned forward and took the King's hand, "and keep Kurt close. Report to me next week. In the meantime, I'll see what I can do about your sister."

"Thank you, Sire," Noah nodded, taking his hand back and trying not to look too in awe of the man. He never thought the king would be so … impressive, especially not in private. If Kurt had this man as a father, it was no wonder he'd turned out so good, so moral, so kind and yet fierce. It made Noah believe with even more of his heart that Kurt had never been playing him and hadn't knowingly seduced Noah like Quinn and so many others before her had.

It made Noah think maybe he  _was_  in love with the prince, absurdly enough.

* * *

It was a long few days waiting for Lady Brittany, and thus Rachel, to get back from Lady Sue's estate. On the second day, Lord Blaine of Westerville arrived back in court after seeing his father home. He approached Kurt during the afternoon gaming hour and said, "It's nice to see you again, Prince. I hope you've had a good few months since your party."

Kurt didn't know the young man very well and that smile might have been Blaine just trying to be friendly, but Kurt didn't trust it. Westerville and Castle Dalton were important allies of Lima, but they weren't Lima herself. Why might this young Lord want to be friendly with Kurt? Did he think he had a better chance of gaining the King's ear by going through Kurt than he did going through Finn? Or was Blaine being friendly for a completely different reason?

Kurt had a nice chat with the man, all with Noah at his elbow, and after a bit he could almost feel the anger coming from his lover. Giving Blaine a polite smile, Kurt said, "Will you excuse me for a moment?" and walked away, Noah trailing behind him.

"What?" Kurt asked when they were alone in one of the lesser-used hallways. "What's wrong?"

"He wants you," Noah insisted, nodding his head back toward the parlor. "Lord Blaine. He thinks he knows what you are and that he can get into your bed."

Kurt thought back over his interactions with the Dalton Lord and decided that yes, Blaine had been touching him a lot – but what if he was just being friendly? "How do you know he's like me? Maybe he acts that way with everyone."

"I know people, Kurt," Noah replied, looking around before he touched the prince's shoulder and neck. "I've seen other men like you out in the world, I know how you act. Just because you've never met someone else like you doesn't mean they don't exist."

Thinking on the issue, Kurt asked, "Are there other men like you? I mean, it didn't seem difficult for you to be with me…"

"Because I'm very fond of you," Noah admitted gruffly, taking his hand away and crossing his arms over his chest. "Being with you isn't difficult at all."

Kurt smiled, mostly to himself because Noah was decidedly looking away from him, like the servant had said too much and was now regretting it. "I have no designs on Lord Blaine, Noah," Kurt assured him, stepping up behind Noah and leaning his forehead against the man's upper back. "I'm marrying Lady Brittany because I have to, but all I want is you. As long as you're with me, I won't take any other lovers, I promise."

The tension across Noah's back faded and he turned around, cupping the side of Kurt's face briefly before clearing his throat and stepping away. "We should get back. There are too many rumors as it is."

"Yes," Kurt admitted regretfully, aching for a kiss but denying himself just the same. There would be time later, when the castle was asleep and couldn't judge him for acting out what he felt in his heart.

* * *

"Prince Kurt!" Lady Brittany called as she entered the tutors' room, most of her entourage still behind her. Noah tried not to growl with jealousy as she and Kurt greeted each other with a light peck on the lips. "I have so much to tell you! Lady Sue's estate was amazing and her dancers were so, so good."

Kurt sneaked Noah a little eye-roll before turning his attention to his fiancée and following her from the room, everyone else in tow. While Noah was trying to get to Rachel to ask her what she'd seen, Lady Santana grabbed his arm and said very loudly, "Noah? May I speak to you a moment about your Prince's wardrobe?"

Noah wasn't sure how to get out of her grasp, so he nodded, letting Kurt and Rachel slip away as Santana pulled him to a corner of the library. "What can I do for you, my lady?"

"Well," she chuckled, "your manners have certainly gotten better."

"So?"

"Ah, there's the Noah I know and love to fuck," she preened, pulling on Noah's arm when he tried to walk away. "Now, now. Don't be like that. I wanted to talk to you for a completely different reason."

"Which is?" Noah prompted, hating the way she liked to dance around a topic.

Smirking, Santana leaned in and whispered, "I know you're fucking the prince now." Noah scoffed, but she wouldn't let him speak before adding, "And I could give a rat's ass. What I'm here to talk to you about is a little arrangement for after the wedding takes place. As is traditional, Kurt and Brittany will be sharing quarters once they are happily wedded. I want you to make sure the prince places me in the chambers opposite yours."

"What for?" Noah asked. "Isn't that where Brittany's main handmaiden would stay?"

"Let's say that just like you and Kurt have a thing, Lady Brittany and I have a thing too. I don't want her asinine marriage of state getting in the way of that."

Noah thought about Santana's words for a moment before he got it. "Oh! You and Lady Brittany are lov-"

Santana silenced him with a hand over Noah's mouth, hissing, "Yes, alright? You can't tell anyone, though. If I'm giving up men and living out spinsterhood for the sake of love, I want to make sure I can do it at Brittany's side."

"What about Kurt?" Noah asked. "If you got what you want, Brittany wouldn't be in his bed very often. How is she going to explain that to him?"

"You're going to explain it," Santana said, poking Noah in the chest. "And I have a feeling the marriage bed will be mostly for show, with the prince residing in your quarters most of the time as well. Is that satisfactory?"

"Despite the fact that you're completely wrong about me and the prince," Noah replied, ignoring Santana's eye-roll of disbelief, "how do I know you're telling the truth about Lady Brittany's wishes? How do I know the Bishop didn't put you up to this, to try to paint Kurt as someone he's not?"

Santana scoffed, "Oh, please. You think the Bishop has the stones to come up with a plan like that? What Lady Brittany and I are doing is just as much against his holy scriptures as what you and Kurt are doing. He wouldn't condone me saying what I've said to you, even if he knew I was going to be lying."

"And you know the Bishop so well?"

Smirking, the lady cupped the side of Noah's face and said, "Sweetie, who do you think warmed the old guy's bed the past few years? I'm free now that he's got himself a princess, and I've got more dirt on him than you could possibly imagine. Now, are you going to do me this favor or not?"

"I'll do it," Noah nodded, thinking he had to report this information as soon as possible. "But only because I know Kurt won't miss Brittany from his bed. Not for any other reason."

Santana winked and sauntered away, leaving Noah's head spinning so fast he thought he might be sick.

* * *

Kurt had just managed to get Rachel alone in his sitting chamber when it was invaded by his father, Noah, and Sir Arthur. "What's going on?" he asked, being able to count on one hand the number of times the king had visited him here. Burt's face was twisted with fury and in fear, Kurt looked to Noah, wondering if his father had found out about them and was about to banish Noah from the palace, hell even the country. "What is it?"

"All going on right under my nose," Burt fumed, pacing from one side of the room to the other as Noah approached Kurt and Rachel, Arthur right behind him. "I can't  _believe_  this! The lows some people stoop to!"

"Father, is this about-" Kurt started to ask, but was cut off when Noah grabbed his hand and subtly shook his head. "You're not making any sense."

"None of it makes any sense!" Burt huffed. "There are clear separations between the Church and the throne and here I thought both sides were respecting that! The  _nerve_! Well, if they're going to fuck with me, I'm going to fuck with them as well."

"So this has to do with the Bishop?"

"The Bishop," Burt agreed, "and Lady Sue and your brother's damn wife!" Kurt was about to ask again what he was ranting about when Burt pointed at Rachel and said, "You! Tell us what you found out about Lady Sue's estate."

"Um," Rachel replied, looking to Kurt for guidance. After coming to the realization that Burt had been keeping a closer eye on his machinations than he thought, Kurt nodded gently, begging with his eyes for her to comply with his father's request. "Well, Lady Sue buys many slaves and trades them away before too long, often making a profit due to her rigorous training program. Many are pleasure slaves, but those in her latest group are being trained as fine dancers, to entertain outside the bedroom, instead of in. She also employs many household slaves, most of whom are trained at the Fabray estate and then after a short tenure with Lady Sue are sold to other nobles or illicitly to the Church."

"Ah!" Burt cried, and Kurt thought his father might start breathing fire at any second. "This is just … Does no one respect their vows anymore?"

"I don't know, Sire," Rachel replied, backing behind Noah when the king waved her off.

"Sir Arthur?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Arthur replied, stepping forward more bravely than Rachel had, but only just.

"It has come to my attention that not only are Lady Sue and the Fabray family involved in illegal slave trading – although all of it should be illegal – but they've also conspired with the Bishop to gain control of the throne so their trades may continue."

"Through Princess Quinn, Sire?"

"Or under her direction," Burt nodded. "It has come to my attention that Princess Quinn has been keeping the Bishop company, in violation of her wedding vows." Kurt gasped audibly and looked to Noah, who already seemed to know this tawdry rumor. But how could he? "I need you to find some way to prove the affair."

"It's going to be tricky, Sire," Arthur replied, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "The only way would be for several of the nobility and lesser clergymen all to find the Bishop and the Princess in a compromising position. Though perhaps just Prince Finn might do, if he doesn't already know about his wife's dalliance."

"See what you can accomplish," the king replied, finally turning to Kurt. "I need you to be on your best behavior, son. I'm moving up the date of your wedding to Lady Brittany, who has turned out to be a better match for you than I thought at first. Rachel?"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"During continued service to Lady Brittany, I'd like you to look for signs that the woman isn't as stupid as she pretends to be. I also want you to protect the fact that she is apparently in a relationship with Lady Santana, without interfering, and report any signs that the Church might be communicating with either of them. Can you do that for me?"

"Of-of course," Rachel stuttered, nodding energetically as Burt rounded on Kurt again.

"Just because Lady Brittany has a female lover doesn't get you out of the fact that your marriage must be consummated and must produce an heir, no matter how attached you might be to Noah. Got that?"

Nodding, Kurt said, "Yes, Father," knowing that it was better to make things work with Brittany, who would most likely be willing to overlook his relationship with Noah than to be forced into divorcing her and trying again with somebody less accommodating. "As distasteful as I find it, I will do my duty."

"Good," Burt growled, giving the room one last, angry look before stomping away, his personal guard meeting him at the door and following him away down the hall.

"Well," Sir Arthur sighed, prodding his spectacles again before looking back and forth between Kurt and Noah with a small smile on his lips. "You two, huh? Can't say I'm surprised. You've been dancing around each other for weeks."

"We have?" Kurt asked his friend, looking to Noah, who seemed to know much more about everything than he was saying.

"Of course you have," Rachel scoffed, hitting Kurt on the back of the head, even though he was the prince. Kurt kind of loved her for that.

"Has anyone else noticed?" Kurt asked, remembering things that both Brother David and Finn said to him.

Noah finally spoke up, saying, "Santana has a pretty good idea, but no confirmation."

"Sam, Mike, Tina and the rest are fairly clueless," Arthur said, "though I'm not so certain about the staff."

"Who no doubt include one or two of Princess Quinn's spies," Kurt sighed.

"We have to be more careful," Noah added. "All of us." After a general round of agreement, he turned to Rachel and asked, "My sister?"

"Doing well," Rachel assured him, much to Kurt's relief. "She has not been mistreated in any way. General consensus around the estate, though, is that Sue plans to rent her dancing slaves out, rather than sell them. I doubt we could arrange to buy her at any price."

"Especially if Quinn has told Lady Sue to hold onto her," Kurt pointed out, "for blackmail purposes. Noah, your sister might have to … um,  _disappear_. Sir Arthur, can you think about how to accomplish the task?"

"With every waking thought I'm not using for your father's plans," Arthur replied, and Kurt smiled at his friend, feeling unworthy of his loyalty. He supposed that just as Kurt felt like an outcast from the rest of the nobility, Arthur with his spectacles and awkward mannerisms had felt the same way, so they'd banded together early on.

Rachel interrupted Kurt's thoughts by saying, "I recognized one of the slaves there and she might be willing to help us. Her name is Mercedes and she's a household slave, so I don't know how long she's going to be there, but she knows the layout of the estate and might be able to help Arthur get in and out."

Thinking all this over, Kurt sighed and then gave his orders, "Arthur, plan out your method of attack, alone if you think you can manage it. Otherwise, Sir Mike's family has no love for either the Fabray family or Lady Sue. Rachel, keep your position in Brittany's household and report to me as often as you can get away. Thank you, both of you."

Both of Kurt's friends left him alone with Noah, who the prince led into the bedchamber idly, trying not to think so hard about what a precarious position everyone he loved was in. Noah locked both doors to the room and then pushed Kurt down onto the settee, kneeling on the floor to look up at him. Kurt chuckled a little at the sight, explaining, "I never expected you to kneel at my feet, not-humble-Noah. Come sit next to me."

"No," he replied, pushing on Kurt's knees so he could kneel between them, his arms resting on the prince's thighs and his head tilted up to receive a kiss. "I can't help but wonder how the hell I'm worth all this."

"First," Kurt explained, "it's not just about  _you_." The prince wrapped his arms around Noah's shoulders, pulling him closer, "And second, you  _are_  worth it, Noah. I saw something special in you that day at the slave market, a sort of nobility that many of my peers are sadly lacking. You are a good man, Noah and by bringing you here, taking you to lessons with me, I've been trying to make you amazing."

"Fit for a prince?" Noah asked with a laugh, letting his arms wrap around Kurt's back and burying his face in Kurt's shoulder. "So what happens when my year is over and done with? You find someone else and make him amazing, too?"

Kurt's heart dropped at the cynicism in Noah's voice, and debated telling him he was already a free man. However, Kurt knew he needed to keep Noah close for both personal and political reasons, so he hugged Noah closer and whispered fiercely, "Never. Whether you stay or go when our birthdays come around again is up to you. I hope you'll decide to stay."

"For how long, though? Until Quinn finds some way to use me against you?"

"I worry somewhat that's already what she's doing," Kurt admitted, "using this business with your sister to keep me busy for some reason."

"While she does something else…like put your cuckold brother on the throne," Noah sighed, sitting back so they could be face to face. "How can people be so …  _evil_?"

Kurt marveled at both Noah's political instincts and his naïveté, given the fact that his mother had sold him into slavery. "The scary thing is, Noah, Princess Quinn probably thinks she's doing all these things for the greater good. She sees me as unfit to be king because I follow the Church's scripture so loosely just by being who I am. She sees Finn as a great man, who just needs her guidance. She probably even sees her dalliance with the Bishop as a way to remain in his good graces and assure her place as the power behind the throne, with little thought to how hurt my brother will be when he finds out."

After a long silence, where Noah seemed to be thinking all this over, he looked up again and smirked, "Well, it's a good thing you bought me then, Prince. With all these snakes around, you needed someone like me to watch your back."

"Someone like you?" Kurt asked with a chuckle, sliding off the settee to join Noah on the floor (prince or no prince). "Someone completely insufferable?"

"Someone badass," Noah corrected, pulling Kurt down on top of him so they were both lying out on the floor.

Laughing and readjusting himself into a more comfortable position on Noah's chest, Kurt asked, "What does that even mean?"

Noah answered him with a well-placed kiss and wonderful, wandering hands.

* * *

Several days before their planned nuptials, Kurt met with Lady Brittany and Lady Santana, bringing Noah along with him. Noah hated the position he was in. Unlike Lady Santana, he didn't have a title or money. He was still a slave, even if Kurt never treated him that way, and all he could do was play the doting but platonic manservant to Kurt's prince. Even during the meeting where Kurt and Brittany would decide how their marriage was to be, he was expected to stand behind Kurt and be silent until spoken to.

"I'm so excited," Brittany said as she sat down on the couch across form Kurt, Lady Santana at her side, giving Noah a knowing wink. "You picked out the most wonderful dress any bride could imagine, my prince."

"My future wife must be attired in style," Kurt smiled, but Noah could tell by the way he clutched his teacup that he was nervous. "I was happy to help. In fact, I would like to thank you for letting me do the majority of the planning. I needed something to distract me from calming my brother's growing anxiety over being a father."

"I didn't care much about the ceremony," Brittany shrugged. "Though, I have to say I'm looking forward to being a princess. I've always wanted to be one."

Kurt smiled, but Noah noticed the way Santana smiled even more fondly. Clearing his throat, Kurt said, "Well, we're here today to discuss what your life as princess will look like. Noah has told me that you would like Lady Santana installed as your primary handmaiden, in rooms adjoining our own."

"Why not?" Brittany smiled, sneaking a loving glance at her companion. "And it's not like it's cheating because the plumbing is different."

Kurt choked in surprise, even though his tea was safe on the table before him, coughing as he replied, "You're absolutely right, my dear. However, the Church has an antiquated view of these things."

Pouting, Brittany asked, "So you're not going to allow me-"

"I didn't say that," Kurt sighed, looking back at Noah like he needed the strength of his presence. Noah liked being Kurt's strength, probably because he'd stupidly fallen in love with the man who owned him. "I would love for Lady Santana to live next to us. However, I'd ask in return your acceptance of my manservant, Noah, serving a similar function for me."

"You two are cute together," Brittany nodded, giving Noah an amused look over her teacup as she took a sip. "And it seems only fair. Why did you mention the Church, though?"

"This  _arrangement_  of ours," Kurt explained, "must be kept secret between the four of us. No one else can ever know that Lady Santana isn't just your handmaiden and Noah isn't just my manservant. Can you do that for me, Brittany?"

"Yes," she agreed, nodding eagerly. "This is going to be so great! I can't even believe it!"

Kurt didn't look as enthusiastic as his fiancée, but he smiled anyway, showing the ladies from his parlor and closing the door behind them, leaning against it and giving Noah an exhausted look. "Gods help me, Noah. That woman is going to be my wife."

"At least she won't be 'cheating' on you, like your brother's wife," Noah pointed out, sprawling out on one of the couches now that he could let his "manservant" act slip a little. "After all, the plumbing's different."

Kurt snorted in laughter and walked over to his desk, sitting down behind it with a sigh. After a moment, he admitted, "I wish I could just name you my consort and be done with it."

Surprised, Noah sat up so he could see Kurt's face as the prince read something on his desk, seemingly completely oblivious to what he'd said. Noah had learned during his history lessons with Kurt's tutors that consort was the kind of title a queen gave her husband when she didn't want him to be king. It was a lifetime sort of title, and Kurt wanted to give that to Noah?

Lying back down, Noah kept his silence and smiled to himself. Maybe sometime in the future, after Brittany gave Kurt an heir and when Burt's policies became more widely accepted, Noah would get to be Kurt's consort. Consort to the king.

It sounded pretty good for a boy whose mother had sold him into slavery.

* * *

Burt watched his son get married to a woman he didn't love and hated the necessity of it all. He'd been lucky when he was young – meeting Kurt's mother and falling in love with her – and he'd wished the same sort of luck for his sons. Instead Finn had fallen for a woman whose loyalty was fractured and suspect and Kurt loved someone who would never be able to give him descendants.

The wedding itself was beautiful, as far as Burt could tell, but that was no surprise given how much effort Kurt had put into making everything perfect. He wondered briefly if Kurt had been distracting himself from the reality of the marriage that came afterwards by focusing on the ceremony itself. It certainly seemed so as Kurt fought his tendency to fidget when he was nervous, clenching his hands instead of picking at the nails.

All the appropriate words were said and Kurt walked his bride down the aisle, Finn, Sir Sam and Sir Arthur behind him, all wearing happy expressions. Burt had made an effort to learn as much as he could about the attendants on Brittany's side as well. Lady Santana was a younger daughter of a wealthy Lord, unneeded for marriages of trade and with a backbone strong enough to make sure her father never tried. Lady Tina was the daughter of one of Burt's trusted ambassadors and his foreign wife. And the small girl following after Tina was Brittany's younger sister, Hannah, apparently just as beautiful and just as daft as her older sister.

At his side, Carole gripped Burt's arm and dabbed the happy tears from her eyes, leaning in to whisper, "He looks so handsome, Burt. Your son's all grown up!"

"We'll see," Burt replied cynically, but he did notice Kurt playing his part as well as could be expected, helping Lady Brittany out of the church and into the carriage, kissing her so they could be seen through the windows as they drove back to the palace for the celebration. Burt also noticed Lord Blaine of Westerville watching Kurt with a wistful sort of look in his eyes. He might have been watching Brittany, but Burt was fairly certain he wasn't.

Hopefully he wouldn't become a problem.

"Well," a voice interrupted Burt's thoughts, making him turn to see the Bishop standing beside him. "Your younger son happily married, Your Highness. What a happy day, hmm?"

Looking into the man's dark eyes, Burt feigned a smile and shook the bishop's hand, wondering how often the man had taken his daughter-in-law to bed. She was heavily pregnant these days, letting Finn help her down the stairs, and Burt thought maybe the Bishop liked the fact that she was so gravid. It certainly prevented the possibility of a bastard resulting from the dalliance. Putting a bracing arm around his wife's waist, more for his comfort than for hers, Burt replied, "It sure is. They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"I wouldn't know, Sire," the clergyman admitted, bowing to the king before following Brother David toward their carriage.

"We should get going too, honey," Carole said, pulling on Burt's arm. "We can't be late for the party!"

Noticing Noah standing off to the side, waiting to follow Sir Arthur wherever he was supposed to go, Burt handed his wife off to one of the groomsmen and explained, "I'll be right there, love."

As nobles and their attendants filed away from the church, Burt snapped to get Noah's attention and waved him over. "Yes, Sire?"

"Try not to look so sullen, hey, kid? Your master just got married. You should be happy for him, not looking like you want to take a battle axe to his bride."

Noah laughed a little and nodded, bowing his head. "I didn't realize I looked so angry, Your Highness. I'll try to change that."

"Well, from what you've told me, things aren't going to change that much. Keep your eye on the goal, Noah. We're fighting a battle here, and some sacrifices needed to be made," he clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder and looked into his eyes, making sure that the message had gotten through.

"Which goal?" Noah asked, though it looked like he did understand. "Unseating the bishop, getting Kurt crowned king, or being named his official consort?"

"Consort?" Burt laughed in surprise. "Well, I suppose a young guy like you has got to set his sights high. Good luck getting the aristocracy to agree to  _that_."

Noah smiled and nodded shyly, like he was pleased Burt hadn't gotten mad at him just for suggesting the idea. Hell, if Finn had married someone less politically minded, Burt might have just encouraged Kurt to try.

"In the meantime," Burt added, "you should probably be seen in the company of a woman or two. Aren't you friends with that Rachel girl who sang?" Noah nodded again so Burt pushed him lightly toward the carriages and ordered, "Go spend some time with her at the party. It'll keep your mind off wanting to kill my new daughter-in-law, huh?"

"Yes, Sire," Noah agreed, jogging over to join Sir Arthur and his companions in a carriage while Burt lumbered his way to the royal coach, wondering when he'd gotten so old.

* * *

"Prince Kurt," Quinn said with a friendly smile as she sat down at the table beside him, in Finn's chair now that dinner was over. "Congratulations on convincing Lady Brittany to marry you."

Rolling his eyes at the back-handed sentiment, Kurt replied as sincerely as he could, "Thank you, Princess Quinn. I hope that we will be very happy together."

"Isn't that why you married her?" Quinn asked, running a hand through her long, blonde hair and smiling at her husband out on the dance floor. "Because she's too stupid not to be happy?"

"One could say you had the same reasoning, marrying my brother," Kurt said sweetly, "though I assure you, he's not as unintelligent as he appears."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm," Kurt agreed, taking a sip of his wine and watching Lady Brittany dance with Sir Mike in a friendly, if intricate, waltz. "And Finn has a big heart, Quinn. When it breaks and he realizes who you truly are, there will be hell to pay."

Quinn narrowed her eyes briefly before sending him a brilliantly friendly expression and replying, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, prince. I would never break Finn's heart."

"Good to hear," Kurt sighed, standing up from his chair. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I should dance with my wife."

"Kurt?" Quinn asked, calling him back so he had to lean in to hear her over the music. "The bishop knows this marriage is just a convenient cover for your true nature. My household would be happy to take your manservant from you, to remove such an immoral temptation."

"You would know all about immoral temptations, wouldn't you, Quinn?" Kurt asked with a smile. "And no, thank you. Lady Brittany was eager to keep Noah as part of our household and I'm sure she would be saddened to see him go. Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, prince."

After the party, when everyone escorted Kurt and his bride back to their new rooms, laughing and drinking along the way, teasing about what was to come, Kurt steeled himself for what was about to occur. Knowing this was coming, he'd gone to Noah's quarters the night before.

" _I want to make love," Kurt told Noah, climbing under the covers with his manservant. "I don't want my first real experience to be with a woman I don't love."_

" _We_ have _been making love, of a sort," Noah insisted, pulling Kurt close and running his hands under the hem of Kurt's nightshirt. "What more do you want?"_

_Taking a deep breath, Kurt admitted, "I want to be inside you. I want to remember what you feel like when I'm with her."_

" _Don't mention her," Noah breathed against Kurt's lips before sucking the bottom one into his mouth, making Kurt tremble. "This is just you and me, Kurt."_

" _Then let me do this with the man I love?" Kurt asked, meeting Noah's eyes for a long moment before the servant nodded._

_Later, between rough breaths and holding Kurt almost maddeningly close, Noah whispered, "I love you, too. No matter how it might feel with her, remember that, okay?"_

_Kurt chuckled and nodded, flipping them over so Noah's weight was comfortingly pressing him down into the mattress. "I thought we weren't mentioning a certain someone."_

" _Mmm," Noah agreed, his lips pressed fiercely against Kurt's._

Taking a deep breath as he closed and locked the door – he didn't need drunken revelers invading a moment as private as this – Kurt turned to face his wife. "I'm nervous," he admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Brittany. "We should probably start with a kiss?"

Looking much less nervous than Kurt felt, Brittany leaned closer and pressed her lips to his, smiling as she pulled back. "You taste like cherries."

"Um," Kurt replied awkwardly, "lip conditioner. Imported."

"I like it," she smiled, standing up and letting her dress slip to the ground. Kurt knew that any normal man would be salivating to help an attractive woman like Brittany out of her under things, but all Kurt could do was undress himself and then pull back the covers, getting in and waiting for Brittany to join him.

Speaking gently as she slid beneath the coverings and pressed her body against his, Brittany whispered, "It's okay to pretend I'm someone else. I won't get mad."

"Are you," Kurt swallowed, jerking when Brittany's hand touched his stomach and inched lower. "Are you thinking about someone else?"

Brittany smiled without answering and kissed him again, her soft hand so much different than Noah's rough ones that it was difficult for Kurt imagine she was his lover. Eventually, though, Kurt closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his wife, losing himself in the press of skin-on-skin and tongue-on-tongue, the whole time telling himself this was Noah right after he'd bathed and shaved, skin soft and warm, writhing beneath Kurt as they found their pleasure together.

When Kurt woke in the early morning, Brittany was sleeping peacefully beside him, hugging her pillow like she wished it was a person. Kurt decided to do the same with his.

He spent a long time just lying there awake and wishing he could leave or that she would leave or something. But then someone burst in through the door to Noah's room and Kurt looked up, expecting it to be Noah. Well, it was, but he was led into the room by Finn who exclaimed, "I have a daughter!"

Brittany woke up and almost exposed herself as she sat up, so Kurt wrapped the bed sheets more tightly around his wife before looking up at his brother and saying, "Congratulations. Could you maybe leave so we can get dressed and celebrate properly?"

"What?" Finn asked, just noticing that there was someone else in Kurt's bed and it made Kurt glad that he'd remembered to lock his doors on the nights Noah had been in here with him. "Oh, right. Sorry, milady. I'll go tell Father!"

Noah gave Kurt a look as he left with Kurt's brother, it saying something between, "Thank God you've done your duty and have witnesses," and, "I'm so jealous I could kill someone."

When they were alone, Kurt turned to Brittany and said, "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Hung over," she admitted with a completely un-ironic smile, which made Kurt laugh and kiss her on the forehead, relieved that it felt like their friendship hadn't changed despite their awkward fumblings the night before.

* * *

"So?" Noah asked when Kurt got back from admiring his brand-new niece, "How was it?"

Kurt sighed and crashed onto Noah's bed, his buttocks tantalizingly high in the air. "My father is ecstatic that the baby is a girl, Quinn and the Bishop both seem deeply disappointed, and I can't help but think the child bears a striking resemblance to you."

"Shit," Noah cursed, lying down beside his prince. "At least there's still a chance that you'll produce an heir before your brother does."

Groaning, Kurt replied, "Don't remind me. Everything about last night was awful."

He would never admit it, but Noah felt relieved to hear Kurt's opinion. In the back of his head he'd had this fear that as soon as Kurt felt what it was like with a woman, he wouldn't want Noah any more. "How did you ever get through it?" he chuckled, still a little nervous about how Kurt might answer.

Sitting up to look down at him, Kurt asked, "You really want to know?" Noah nodded. "I pretended she was you the entire time. It was really difficult."

Overcome with affection, Noah grabbed Kurt and dragged him into a heated kiss, needing to prove that Kurt wasn't wrong and Noah was the better lay. He was the prince's not-quite-consort for God's sake. He was going to be fucking amazing, like Kurt deserved, any time he could - including now.

* * *

The baby's christening ceremony was an extravagant affair that rivaled Kurt and Brittany's wedding and the surprise of the evening had been Lady Sue trotting out her dancing slaves for a performance. Noah almost gasped aloud, grabbing tightly onto Kurt's arm when he saw his sister, his beautiful baby sister, among them.

"Don't react," Kurt hissed out of the corner of his mouth, pulling his arm away. "That's just what she wants from us. Ignore the fact that she's right there. It's far too dangerous…"

Noah tried to ignore him, but he knew Kurt was right. It took all of his power to stand there behind Kurt, ramrod straight with the effort not to crumble. The worst part about it was how happy Sarah looked and how good she was. Sarah had never really been good at anything, but she was good at this. As one of the smaller dancers she flitted in and out of the larger pattern seamlessly, drawing attention to herself and delighting the audience.

Her movements even seemed to have a certain humor to them, which hurt because Noah couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his sister laugh. Those last few weeks before their mother sold him away were rough and Noah kicked himself for not getting Sarah out if there sooner. A run-away fifteen year old and his kid sister were one matter, a run-away pair of slaves were another.

After the music died down, Quinn called Lady Sue to the front of the room, saying, "I've enjoyed the show so much, my lady! Your dancing slaves are incredible."

Noah recognized then the pleasure slave who trailed along behind Sue and kneeled down at her feet as she replied to the Princess as Jesse, the boy who had tried and failed to comfort Rachel. Lady Sue waved at her dancers as she said, "Thank you, Princess. I'm glad someone in this kingdom appreciates hard work. Here, let me introduce you to my most promising young star..."

Noah bit his tongue as Sarah broke away from the group and, smiling, joined Sue before the princess. "Who is this?" Quinn asked, a motherly smile on her gorgeous face.

"This is Elizabeth," Sue replied, almost winking at Quinn as they shared some look of secret understanding. "She came to me from our friends in Westerville and has shown remarkable talent."

Noah wanted to scream every time the woman in front of the court lied and he saw the tense set of Kurt's shoulders as well.

"In honor of a humble slave with enormous talent," Quinn proclaimed, her voice ringing through the ballroom, "and in the hope that she will someday be as graceful, I name my daughter Elizabeth!"

Finn looked a little shocked, but he didn't contradict her as the Bishop held the baby up and said his naming prayer, thanking the gods for the baby's health and asking for her continued safety.

Noah wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Quinn knew exactly what she was doing, playing out her little skit with Sue and naming Noah's rightful daughter after a false name given to his own sister. There was nothing he could do about it.

Then, sitting next to Kurt, Brittany spoke up, "Lady Sue! I wonder if I might beg a wedding present from you? This young dancer, Elizabeth, would make a really cool addition to my household and I will be able to tell everyone about how talented your dancers are!"

"Oh, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Lady Brittany," Sue said with a malicious smile. "But House Hummel does not indulge in slavery!" She looked right at Kurt then, raising an eyebrow at him almost in challenge.

"I think," Burt broke into the conversation, his voice booming throughout the room, "we can make an exception for a gift, don't you my Queen? Of course, the child will be freed and put under the guardianship of my house until she comes of age."

"What a splendid idea, Burt!" Carole replied. "And what a way to welcome Brittany into our family. Surely you could do without one small slave, couldn't you, Sue? You always seem to have so many."

"I don't think-" Quinn started to say, but Finn cut her off.

"What a great idea, Sue! A girl this young and talented shouldn't be a slave!" Finn sounded naive and enthusiastic, but Noah could tell Kurt was impressed by his brother's outburst. "You're such a good friend to the crown."

Lady Sue opened and closed her mouth a few times before grudgingly pushing Sarah in Brittany's direction, sparing a quick glance for Quinn and then the Bishop, as if to apologize. Brittany took Sarah's hand and greeted the girl before handing her off to Lady Santana. Stoically, Noah kept his eyes forward, unable to celebrate or even acknowledge his sister for fear of letting Kurt's enemies know they were right to keep her.

* * *

As the celebrations wound down and Kurt led Brittany and the rest of their entourage toward their chambers, he leaned toward his wife and asked, "Do you know what you've done for me today, Brittany? Do you have any idea?"

Brittany smiled and slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently and winking as she replied, "What did I do, sweetie? I just saw something I wanted and figured that I'm a princess now, so I could probably get it and it worked!"

Kurt shook his head and replied, "Well, thank you anyway. You're a good friend."

Back in their chambers, Brittany ordered Santana into the handmaiden's rooms to "help her dress" which left Santana pressing Sarah's hand into Kurt's and saying, "You can, um, take her from here, right? Get someone else to look after her?"

"Sure," Kurt replied, waiting until the room cleared out before stooping down next to the girl and telling her, "I'm Prince Kurt and Noah's my good friend. You can go hug him now if you want."

Breaking into a huge smile, Sarah ran at her brother, letting him scoop her up and hugging him tightly around the neck. "Lady Santana said I had to pretend I didn't know you, Noah," she said, a slight hint of her Tribal accent still left in the guttural way she said her brother's name. "How come?"

"Because, Sweet pea," Noah replied, which made Kurt's heart melt toward him even more than it already had, "Ma sold you to a dangerous lady and my friend, Kurt, needs help avoiding the dangerous lady."

"Lady Sue is mean," Sarah nodded, letting Noah put her down on the ground before pushing her sleeve up to show a handful of welts on the back of one of her arms. "When I didn't dance well enough, her trainer hit me and he hits harder than Ma ever did."

"Ma was wrong to sell you," Noah practically growled, his eyes flashing up at Kurt as if asking for his support. "At least I could take care of myself. I don't know what she was thinking-"

"A man came to the house," Sarah interrupted him. "He told Ma that someone wanted to buy me and she should sell me right away while she could still get lots of gold for me."

Kurt shook his head at the nerve of some people - it had probably been that auction master, Remington - and wondered what kind of woman would give up her daughter like that, when there was a big probability that whoever had their eye on Sarah wasn't looking for a dancer - but a young girl to molest instead. Noah just shook his head and hugged his sister again, whispering in her ear that everything was going to be alright. Kurt didn't want to disagree.

* * *

Life went on for Noah pretty much the same as it had since he'd been bought, except now he could check in on his sister - in school with the rest of the servants' children - whenever he got a spare moment. Of course, Kurt was in Brittany's bed more nights than not, leaving Noah to sit there, sleepless and staring at his ceiling, trying not to get too jealous.

He'd never meant to fall in love with the Prince, that was for sure, though he had meant for Kurt to fall in love with him. Now there were five months left of his sentence as a slave and Noah couldn't even spend them making the most of his time with Kurt, he had to settle for stolen time in the mornings and mid-day gropings in a private corner or two that they had found. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't Kurt's shadow, watching him and everything happening around him so closely. Maybe if Noah didn't have to see the object of his affection almost all of his waking hours, not being able to get intimate with him would have been easier to handle.

"It's just until Brittany gets pregnant," Kurt insisted with a sigh. "Believe me, I probably like this less than you do. She has all these...girl parts and-"

Noah laughed, holding his prince close and breathing in the scent of him, freshly out of the bath and not smelling a bit like his wife's perfume.

Lessons and court were fine, though Lord Blaine was still around, offering his company, "Whenever Kurt bores of satisfying his new wife."

"Thank you for the offer, Lord Blaine," Kurt had replied flippantly, like he had no idea what Blaine was suggesting, "but my wife is very satisfactory company. Shall we talk now about those new fashion designs you're thinking of importing?" Over Blaine's head, Kurt winked at Noah, making him smile.

Though everything about Kurt's marriage to Brittany appeared to be going well, the same could not be said of Finn's marriage. One day, Noah was waiting outside while Kurt spoke with his father, when he overheard a whispered argument. Moving to the corner of the hallway and looking around it, Noah saw Quinn and Finn speaking heatedly.

"I don't care that you want to learn music, Finn," she hissed. "I don't like you spending so much time with a former slave like Rachel Berry. On top of breaking our wedding vows, did you have to do it with someone who has such mannish hands? People will begin to think you're like your brother!"

"First of all," Finn whispered back, "I have been utterly faithful to you, Quinn, despite the fact that Beth looks nothing like me. And second, don't think for a second you can still get away with calling my brother a deviant. He married Lady Brittany for gods' sakes!"

"You and I both know it was a convenient excuse for both of them," Quinn muttered. "They're probably not even having relations."

"My sources on the household staff say otherwise," Finn huffed.

"Oh, so now you have a source on the staff too?" Quinn asked. "What are you fucking her as well? How many bastards should I expect just this year?"

"Besides the one you gave birth to?"

Quinn screamed a quiet noise of frustration and stomped off, past Noah and out of the wing. Finn went the other way and Noah tried to remember every word that had been said, so that he could fill in the king at their next meeting. Kurt still had no idea that Noah was reporting to his father, but Burt had ordered him to keep quiet, despite all the other secrets they shared. "I know my son, Noah. He'll just get upset and pride-sore if he finds this out. You can keep this to yourself, right?"

"Of course, Sire."

Two months before Noah was to be set free, Brittany started throwing up a lot and Kurt practically moved into Noah's room. "I missed you so much," he sighed, stretching out naked on Noah's bed, making the servant nod in agreement and awe. He hadn't been able to spend much more than a moment or two with Kurt for so long that it was a luxury to take off his clothing slowly and crawl onto the bed with his lover, savoring every second he got to see the prince bared and at peace.

"Missed you, too," Noah replied, fitting his mouth against Kurt's and pulling their bodies together. "When my year is up, I can stay right here, can't I?"

"Yes," Kurt murmured, running his hand playfully over Noah's skin. "You can stay here with me forever."

The next morning, Burt fell ill.

* * *

Kurt woke to a loud pounding on the door and Santana pulling him out of bed by one arm, ignoring the fact that he was naked as the day he was born. "What's going on?"

"Back where you belong, Prince," she insisted, shoving him through the door to his proper chambers and locking the door behind her. "There are guards at the door. Something about the king."

"Shit," Kurt swore, grabbing a spare dressing gown from the wardrobe (So what if it was Brittany's? At least it wasn't pink.) and going to answer the door. "What is it?"

"My prince, it's your father," the guard replied, wiping a trail of sweat from his brow, just underneath his helmet. "He's not well. They say to come quickly."

"I'll be right there," Kurt promised, closing the door again so he could find some semblance of clothes and pull them on before sprinting down the hallways to his father's chambers.

There he found Will, who ushered him into the King's bedroom, holding his shoulder tightly as Kurt took in the sight before him. His father, King of Lima, looked like a ghost already. "He collapsed," Finn said from beside the bed, Carole right next to him. "We were just talking this morning about a few things and he just fell over..."

"He's still alive," Carole mentioned, holding a hand out to Kurt and although he appreciated the gesture, he turned to Will instead, wrapping his arms around the steward and giving into his tears.

After a few moments of silence, Finn got up and pulled Kurt to face him, stooping down to look in his eyes as he said, "Brother? You're in charge. Father named you his heir."

"And you didn't fight him on it?" Kurt asked, shocked to his core. "Why?"

Finn shrugged and replied, "Many reasons. Not the least of which is my impending divorce."

"Di-what?"

"Father told me," Finn insisted, "about how your manservant is the true father of Quinn's baby. I seriously don't know how she could do this to me, but I know I can't keep a person like her around. I'm done with her."

"And you want to marry someone else, someone  _common_ in her place?" Kurt guessed, wiping a tear from under his eye.

"Perhaps," Finn shrugged, smiling a little before looking over to their father's almost-lifeless body and wiping the expression away.

"It's not going to be easy," Kurt pointed out, looking to Will to bring him into the conversation. "The earls are going to fight this. The Bishop is going to fight this."

"What can they do?" Finn replied. "If Father named you heir and I abdicate, how can they protest? They won't have a king anymore."

Kurt rolled his eyes at his brother's ignorance. How was it that he had taken all the lessons Kurt had, learned the same things – for three extra years – and still wasn't able to predict what would happen? Kurt explained, "The earls will pledge themselves to someone else, like Carmel or Westerville, and the Bishop will get what he's always wanted – the throne."

"Never," Finn frowned. "I've got the army, Kurt. They will follow me, whether I'm king or not, and the Bishop can't take the throne without them."

"And the earls?"

"Father's not dead yet," Finn replied readily, and Kurt thought maybe he hadn't been giving his brother enough credit. "As long as he's still alive and you make it clear you intend to give him back the throne when he gets better, they're not going anywhere."

Kurt nodded, until a sickening thought crossed his mind, "What if Father never gets better? What if he dies?"

Finn pulled Kurt into the first hug they'd shared since Finn's wedding and growled, "He won't die. We can't think like that."

"We have to think exactly like that," Kurt replied, still holding onto his brother and basking in the evermore apparent thought that his brother  _didn't_  hate him. "Though, I suppose now that Brittany's pregnant, the earls have less of a reason to hate me. I've proved myself. Wait," Kurt pulled back. "Is that why  _you_  don't hate me anymore?"

Pulling back to look at Kurt, Finn insisted, "No!" When Kurt gave his brother a skeptical look, born from the slight edge of hysteria in his voice, Finn said more clearly, "No. I never hated you, brother. I was just … I was scared of you turning into someone else, someone I didn't know who did  _things_  with other men and I … I was wrong, okay?"

Kurt nodded, wiping away another stray tear. "Thank you, Finn. That means a lot to me."

Finn gave him a twisted sort of smile and nodded before turning and saying, "I'm going to keep an eye on Father. Make sure the healers do everything that they can."

"Be careful," Kurt told him. "We don't know if the Church will use Father's current weakness against us. Watch him closely. I'm going to go put on something regal and make an appearance at court. The earls will want to know what's going on."

"Yeah," Finn agreed, giving Kurt a little wave before heading back into the king's sick room and leaving Kurt alone.

As Kurt walked back to his suite, his guards trailing behind him, he planned out what he was going to say to them and decided he should run the words by Will first, before he gave them, just to make sure he wasn't saying something potentially catastrophic.

He did not expect to see Sir Arthur face down in the doorway to his chambers. "Oh, Gods! Check him," Kurt ordered the guard on his left, knowing it would be foolish of him to hurry forward, not knowing what danger might befall him – not knowing what danger had already befallen Noah.

"Still alive," the guard whispered back, hooking his arms under Arthur's and dragging him toward the prince. "Looks like he's just knocked out."

Kurt crouched down next to his oldest friend and grasped Sir Arthur's hand, wondering where his spectacles had gone and who had done this to him. Looking up at the first guard, Kurt was about to order him to go check the rooms when a loud, female scream sounded from inside.

The guard hurried in without hesitation and Kurt couldn't help but set Arthur down and follow his guard, letting the second watch his back. There, in the center of the sitting room, Lady Santana sobbed, Noah wrapped protectively around her. Both had visible wounds – Santana a gash on her forehead that bled down around one of her eyes, and Noah a bloody nose, a bloody patch on one of his sleeves and his hand held relaxed and not gripping Santana, like it was broken.

Heedless of the dangers, Kurt rushed into the room and knelt heavily beside them, asking breathlessly, "What happened?"

Santana met his eyes and wailed harder – Kurt never would have taken her for a girl who sobbed like this – and Noah had to clear his throat before answering, "Brittany."

Looking around for his wife, Kurt asked, "Where is she?"

"Church took her," Noah sighed, leaning his head on Kurt's upper arm despite the company. "I tried to stop them. So did Arthur."

"The Church took her?" Kurt asked, astonished. Brittany was a princess, soon to be queen, and pregnant. Who had the stones to  _take_  her?

Noah nodded toward one of the tea tables, where a letter sat, open. Kurt scrambled over and picked it up, reading aloud,

" _Dear Finn,_

" _While I am greatly saddened by your father's illness and sure to be soon demise, I had to protect the interests of Lima above all else. I love you, husband, and I made a stupid mistake. You should have had me as a virgin on our wedding night, but I was scared of the depths of your love and sought out someone else before we had taken our vows. I will always be sorry for that._

" _Apologies aside, you will most likely notice that I have taken your brother's wife with me. She will not be harmed, as long as you take your place as your father's heir and welcome me back as Queen. I bring the allegiances of the Church as well as several of the most powerful families of Lima, and you should think carefully before divorcing me, husband._

" _I promise, our next child will be yours and only yours, my love. Please welcome me back with open arms. If you do not, the only remaining heir to the throne will grow up as my child, loving only me, and taking his rightful place as King when he comes of age._

" _Please believe me when I say I do this for the good of the country. Lima cannot defend itself from its enemies by fracturing as it would under your brother's rule, especially now that I have his child. Contact me through Bishop Figgins when you are ready for me to come home. Once I am crowned as Queen and we have our own son, your nephew will be returned in good health, I swear it._

" _I hope to hear from you soon, dear prince of mine._

" _Love, Quinn."_

The room sat in stunned silence as Kurt sat down on the sofa behind him, taking in what he had just read. How could Quinn do this? Brittany was innocent. Except for asking for one dancing slave that Quinn wanted to hold onto – "Sarah!"

"Oh, god," Noah cried, turning Santana over to one of the guards and standing up as best he could – he also had a limp, it appeared. "You think…?" And then he just took off, limp and all.

Turning to the guard who was standing, Kurt ordered, "Follow him. Make sure no harm comes to him, alright?"

"Yes, my prince," the guard nodded, running after Noah.

Bending down to get Santana to look at him, Kurt said, "Come on, honey. Let's get you somewhere safer."

"It was supposed to be safe here!" she cried, punching Kurt in the jaw and sneering at the guard behind her when he grabbed her arm so she couldn't do it again.

Kurt took the woman's face in his hands and said as clearly and concisely as he could, "I will get her back. I promise, I will find Brittany and bring her back unharmed."

"You can't," Santana insisted, though she allowed Kurt to pull her to her feet. "If the Church can kidnap a princess, how can you fight them?"

"By casting doubt on the Bishop's leadership," Kurt replied, picking up Quinn's letter and leading Santana and the remaining guard out to where Arthur still lay, unconscious. "My father's illness, the kidnapping of my wife… The Hummel family still has friends, my lady. They will not take kindly to the recent turn of events."

Santana snorted humorlessly, "If you tell anyone and try to move against her, Quinn will find out and Brittany will die, Kurt. Maybe not right away, but after the baby is born? You can't. Do. Anything. Nothing except what she wants."

"I have to do something," Kurt sighed. Looking to his guard, Kurt nodded to Arthur and said, "Take off his armor and carry him, Phillip. We're all going to the king's chambers."

"Aye, my prince," Phillip replied, following Kurt's orders and leading the way back to Finn.

As they walked, Noah caught up, Sarah in his arms and Rachel at his heels, trying to get him to, "Put her down, Noah. You're hurt!"

Whispering more to himself and the gods than to anyone else, Kurt breathed, "Wake up, Father. Please!"

* * *

When Kurt gave the letter to his brother, he and two of the guards had to hold Finn back from running out and doing something stupid. "We can't play this game by force," Kurt insisted, sparing a look for Noah, who stood on the sidelines with his sister in his arms, ignoring the aching in his leg and hand.

The injuries scared him, not because of the pain, but because they made him think, "What if it had been Kurt?" What if they had come for Kurt when the only ones there to protect him were the door guard and Noah? Granted, Kurt was better capable of defending himself than Brittany was, though not by much. That woman had wielded a pewter candlestick like nobody's business.

"Then what do we do?" Finn asked, looking between Kurt and Will, who Noah had come to understand knew much more about how Lima worked than Finn, and probably more than Kurt.

Stepping forward to take his brother's hand, Kurt decided, "We play along. We put you in charge, Finn. We tell everyone that Quinn and Brittany have gone traveling for my child's health, and we pray that Father wakes up."

"What about Brittany?" Santana spoke up, her arms crossed under her breasts menacingly. "What happens to her?"

"We try to find her," Kurt explained. "We tell no one our plans but while Finn appears to be making up his mind about contacting Quinn, we find them first."

Noah looked down when Rachel tugged on his sleeve and asked, "Did you ever think two Tribe slaves like us would witness a conversation of this magnitude?"

Hugging his sister a little tighter and rolling his eyes, Noah kept silent, his eyes on Kurt, who commanded the room like it was nothing. Finn listened to him, Will listened to him. Hell, even Santana listened to him after a few moments. His decisions left no room for arguments, "…then I'll help you, Finn. I don't care what Father's wishes are, he didn't foresee something like this happening. We'll write your speech, you'll give it today and that's final."

Noah swallowed when he realized Kurt becoming king – if not soon, then someday – seemed much more of a possibility than it first had when King Burt called that first meeting. And somehow he loved Noah.

* * *

Everything had been set up according to Kurt's plan and he was on his way to meet with Finn and Will when Lord Blaine stopped him in the hall. One of Kurt's guards started to draw his sword when Blaine showed up, but Kurt waved at him to back off. Everyone who knew about Brittany's kidnapping was far too jumpy these days.

"What is it, Lord Blaine? I'm very busy and I don't have time for your indecent proposals today."

"Kurt," Blaine said, not even using his title and laying a gentle hand on Kurt's arm. Leaning in, Blaine whispered, "I know where Brittany is and how little she wants to be there."

Schooling his expression, Kurt replied, "I'm not sure what you're talking about Lord Blaine. My wife is on holid-"

"We both know that's not true," Blaine cut him off gently. "I know Quinn's men took her. I know the Church was involved. I know where they're keeping her."

Looking around at how the hall was not exactly empty, Kurt sighed, "Come with me," and led Blaine toward his chambers. Once they were in Kurt's sitting room, he asked the Daltonite, "How do you know these things?"

"Is the how all that important?" Blaine asked and he seemed almost embarrassed from the way he scratched the back of his neck and dithered with his shoes on the carpet.

Pursing his lips and wishing Noah was here to read Lord Blaine's expressions and give his opinion, Kurt replied, "Since I've been holding this information very tight to the chest, the  _how_ is very important, my lord. If I have a leak among the household staff, I need to know about it."

"I didn't get the information from your household, prince," Blaine insisted. "I - I got it from a member of the Church."

Watching the way Blaine blushed, Kurt's mind right away jumped to one conclusion, "Brother David?"

Blaine nodded sheepishly.

"You've been seeing him, haven't you?" Kurt asked in horror. "Why?"

"I'm in a strange land, Prince Kurt," Blaine insisted. "I took comfort in the Church's familiar walls, even if they and I disagree about a number of things. Brother David was there and..."

"Okay, I get the picture," Kurt nodded, wondering how anyone could voluntarily stand the man. "What exactly did Brother David tell you?"

"Last night," Blaine said significantly, "he said since he and I are such good  _friends_ , that he suggested they move the princess to Dalton for safekeeping. I'm sure my father agreed, though I haven't had word from him in a few weeks, so I can't confirm that."

Kurt watched Blaine's face for a moment, still unable to divine the man's motives. "Why tell me at all? Why not keep this information to yourself?"

"Because," Blaine replied, "I can't just sit by and let the Church, my Church and my David, do this to your family. I have seen how much affection you have for your wife, prince, and I know in your position, I would be out of my mind with worry. No one deserves that, least of all a fair man such as yourself."

"If Brother David finds out you told me..."

"He'd most likely try to kill me," Blaine admitted with a heartbroken look. "That's why I'm leaving for Dalton this afternoon. If you'd like, you could send someone along with me, a few of your guard perhaps? I'm not sure I could free your wife from the Church in Dalton without some help."

Kurt was just about to say he should take Sir Arthur, when Kurt remembered Arthur had been badly injured in the attack that had accompanied Brittany's abduction. He still couldn't use his legs and the healers were beginning to think he might never walk again. The whole situation made Kurt furious and appalled. And vengeful.

The only people Kurt could really trust to be on his side, besides the king, were Finn, Will, General Beiste, and Noah. He couldn't send either Finn or Beiste for obvious reasons, and Will couldn't leave while Burt was still hanging to life by a nail, not without everyone becoming suspicious. But Noah? Had he taken to his training well enough to be of any use? Would he even agree to go?

"Give me a few hours to make arrangements," Kurt told Lord Blaine. "Is that acceptable?"

"Yes," Blaine nodded with a slow smile. "Don't worry, prince. We'll figure out how to return your bride to you."

Kurt watched Blaine leave and gave him a few moments to put some distance between them before he left as well, guards trailing close behind him, on edge. The first place he went was the tutors' suite, where Noah was continuing his lessons despite the fact that Kurt was too busy for them these days. Kurt smiled at the thought that Noah had started to take to learning recently, like he had something to prove to himself, rather than just taking Kurt's orders to be there.

Kurt found Noah studying at a table with Sir Arthur, who sat in his wheeled chair and occasionally commented on Noah's work, like he was helping. Kurt wondered if Noah had asked for his help in an attempt to make the knight feel more useful now that his legs didn't work. It seemed almost too kind for the former slave.

Clearing his throat so the men would look up, Kurt asked, "May I speak to you for a moment, Noah?"

He nodded in surprise and then left his things, following Kurt to a more private corner of the room. "What is it?"

"Lord Blaine-" Kurt was cut off by Noah's unimpressed scoff, so he put a hand on the servant's arm and insisted, "Lord Blaine knows where Brittany has been taken. She's in Dalton and I would ask you to go with him and find her for me. Please, love?"

Noah looked hesitant and a little angry, so Kurt continued talking, "You're the only one I trust to get her and my child back, Noah. I wouldn't send you away for any other reason."

"You're not giving me to Blaine, are you?" Noah asked skeptically. "I mean, for the next month I'm still your slave. I have to do what you order, Kurt. You want me to keep Blaine happy during the trip? You want me in his bed to make sure you get your son back? Just say the word, my prince, and this lowly Tribe slave will do what he's ord-"

"For gods' sakes, Noah," Kurt huffed, grabbing the man's face in both hands so he couldn't look away. "You haven't been a slave for  _months_ , and not just in my heart. As soon as we were together, I couldn't stand the thought of owning you like that anymore. You're a free man and you can go where you please, no matter what I say."

"I-I am?" Noah asked, flabbergasted, his hands raising up to cover Kurt's on his face.

"You are," Kurt insisted. "But I'm asking you now, Noah, not as my slave or my servant, but as my lover and best friend, will you do this for me?"

* * *

Noah stood in shock for a moment. He'd been free for months? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Kurt asked. "I tell you almost everything."

"Why didn't you tell me I'm a free man, Kurt? You were just going to let me keep on thinking-"

"I was selfish, okay?" Kurt admitted, lowering his voice when he looked around and saw they were still in the library. "I was  _selfish_  and didn't want you to go. I didn't want to give you the reason."

Pushing away the reflexive urge to just get mad at Kurt, Noah took a deep breath and nodded. He had to believe in something other than his singular God and he couldn't give up on believing that Kurt loved him and was telling the truth. It would just hurt too much.

So then, there was the problem ahead of him: to go to Dalton and get Brittany back, live with her being Kurt's spouse and Kurt's Queen, or not go. Noah wasn't even sure he could pull off a rescue. What did he know about saving princesses?

But what if he refused to go? Kurt would forever think of him as a coward, someone who couldn't be counted on and couldn't be trusted. Noah wanted to be counted on. He wanted to be trusted, especially by Kurt.

Plus, Noah actually kind of liked Brittany and the way she sort of slyly referenced his place in Kurt's life and still came off appearing ignorant and dumb. He liked the way she laughed and the way she made Lady Santana less irritating and he  _liked_  the way she was carrying Kurt's child. He wanted to meet that kid, not leave him in the hands of someone as crazy as Quinn, like he had to with his daughter by blood.

Enough was e-fucking-nough.

"I'm leaving," Noah told Kurt, confused when the prince's face fell. "I mean, I'll go to Dalton for you."

Kurt's face brightened up and Noah thought for half a second he was going to have to stop the prince from kissing him in public. "Excellent," Kurt said, clearing his throat as if to compose himself. "I want to send a few of the guard with you, and perhaps one of the knights. Is there anyone you trust?"

Noah thought about it for a moment. How much could he say about any of the nobles that surrounded Kurt on a daily basis? He  _had_  been watching them for the king, so he knew who was most likely to look out for himself and who would probably stay loyal to the crown. If Sir Arthur was excluded, and Noah was sure he wouldn't be up to a journey into town, much less into a neighboring country, Noah only really trusted one of the knights. "Sir Sam," he told Kurt.

Kurt nodded and started to pull away, but Noah caught his arm and asked, "When? When are we leaving?"

"In a few hours," Kurt sighed. "Meet me in my chambers at lunch time? I want to say a proper goodbye."

"You'd better," Noah nodded, letting go of Kurt's arm and watching him trot away to continue setting up this suicide mission.

Going back to his table in the library, Noah told Arthur, "I'm going on a little trip for the prince. You'll have to help someone else with their lessons while I'm gone."

Arthur grabbed Noah's wrist so he would look down and warned softly, "Be careful, Noah. If anything, play on the impression everyone has that you're just a dumb servant. It might save your life."

Picking up the last of his books, Noah nodded wearily and gave Arthur a small smile as he waved goodbye. There was no way he could concentrate on his studies in the few short hours between then and leaving the city in which he'd spent his whole life.

* * *

Burt was having a difficult time moving these days, even just to open his eyes.  _Especially_  just to open his eyes. That didn't mean his ears were deaf. No, he heard everything going on around him. He just couldn't  _do_  anything about it. He was a powerless king, trapped in his own body and every day was a never ending struggle to get free.

When there were people around talking, however, Burt listened. In his long years as ruler of a country, Burt had found that it never hurt to listen.

He listened to Kurt telling his brother he had to be king in Burt's place. He listened to Will lamenting all those times he hadn't watched Burt's diet as closely as he should have. He listened to Carole telling Burt how proud he should be of his sons.

He listened to Kurt's musical friend, Rachel, comfort Finn in a moment of insecurity and weakness. Now she would make a good Queen, despite her mediocre social standing and her blood heritage. She had just the right balance of fierce determination and kindness of heart. She reminded Burt almost too much of Finn's and Kurt's mother and he was pretty sure she was the one singing Burt to sleep every night, just like Elizabeth used to do.

He also heard what Bishop Figgins whispered to him when only the guards – Burt's most trusted guards, based on their voices – were around.

"Burt," the clergyman sighed, "I pray for you my friend. I pray that you find peace in the gods' arms quickly and don't spend much longer in this state of half-death. I pray that your son will be wiser than you and follow the advice I give him. We did not want to take Princess Brittany, my liege, but Finn left us no other choice. Quinn will be a good, moral queen for the people of Lima, and the gods have forgiven her sins, Burt, just as they have forgiven yours.

"She will allow the prosperity that you have been denying the citizens of Lima with your unjust and immoral laws, Your Highness. She might have to banish your younger son for his crimes against nature, crimes that a citizen may be forgiven for but a prince cannot be. I'm sorry, Your Highness. I tried to teach him right from wrong in Church every week, but passing the law that prevented the Church from reeducating deviants sent the message that you thought there was nothing wrong with him.

"Burt, your son is very, very wrong. I can only imagine the things he's been doing with that manservant of his, and I'm sure you, like I, shudder to dwell on the thought. Let's pray that banishment finally teaches Kurt the error of his ways and gives him the will to seek some measure of forgiveness."

Never before had Burt wanted so fiercely to strangle someone. Kurt was perfect as he was and no damned Bishop would be able to convince him otherwise. Burt decided then and there that he was going to recover for one reason and one reason only – to see the look on Bishop Figgins' face when he was convicted of treason and hanged.

* * *

After he said goodbye to Rachel and his sister, Noah felt like he was waiting forever for Kurt to show up and it was killing him. Every breath felt plagued with nerves and it was only his awesome willpower that kept his hands from shaking. Sure, he could hold more than his own in a bar fight and General Beiste had been praising his improvement with a sword lately, but that didn't mean he knew a damn about navigating a foreign country and bringing back a prisoner. Knights like Sir Sam trained almost their entire lives to learn how to defend Lima and pull off shit like this.

Noah was a former slave, a former boy of ill repute, and the prince's secret lover. All sorts of horrible possibilities fluttered through his mind until he forcibly pushed them away, singing one of Rachel's songs to keep his mind busy while he waited.

He wondered if this dread was what convicted criminals felt like waiting to be taken to the gallows.

Eventually, Kurt showed up, striding into the room as if he had a singular purpose, locking the door behind him and then throwing himself at Noah. The servant caught his prince in his arms, holding tight and kissing Kurt's neck, which was the only bit of skin he could reach.

After a few moments of tense, sad silence, Noah whispered, "You know, I was gonna seduce you so you'd find my sister for me. I never thought it would turn into  _this_."

"I'll keep her safe," Kurt promised in a returning whisper. "She's already like the sister I lost. You don't have to worry-"

"If I..." Noah interrupted. "If I don't come back-"

Kurt cut him off with a vicious kiss on the lips. "You will! You have to!"

"But-"

"Noah, if I didn't need to send someone I trusted absolutely, I would keep you safe here with me," Kurt insisted, resting his forehead and nose against Noah's. "I love you."

Unable to be this close to the prince without doing something, Noah tilted his head and pressed his lips against Kurt's, testing the truth of his sentiment and tasting what he could while he still could.

"I love you, too, my prince. Probably more than I should."

Kurt chuckle sadly against his lips and pulled Noah toward the bed.

* * *

Kurt watched his lover leave from the servants' gate awkwardly on horseback with Sir Sam and a few of the guardsmen Finn had recommended, along with a disguised Lord Blaine.

"What should I say when Brother David asks after you?" Kurt asked the young Dalton Lord. "'Oops, we seem to have lost him'?"

"Tell him I left to visit my ailing grandfather in Columbus," Blaine replied. "If I know how his mind works as well as I think I do, it'll take David awhile to figure out you were lying."

Kurt nodded and gave Noah one last look before waving the party goodbye and then hurrying up to the throne room, where Finn's first public hearing of grievances was about to begin. Finn was a fair man, especially when he was removed from a given situation, so he would probably do alright handling things on his own, or with a little bit of guidance from Will. Still, Kurt didn't want to risk it.

* * *

Noah's ass was saddle-sore before an hour was up, but he grit his teeth and put up with it since none of the others were complaining. Leaving the city was hard and as he approached the big gates in the wall, Noah almost turned back once or twice, but then he was in the open country, with Sam and Blaine discussing politics. Noah kept his ears open to their discussion, but ultimately just followed along, his eyes taking in the countryside as they traveled.

When they stopped for a few minutes to rest the horses and eat, Noah hissed as he slid out of his saddle, not missing how one of the guards chuckled a little and whispered to his friend, "Thought he'd be used to getting it from the prince by now."

"Maybe the prince gets it from him," the guard's friend replied with a shrug and it bothered Noah how everyone just  _assumed_  he and Kurt were sleeping together. That didn't mean it wasn't true, but still. It was disrespectful or something. And these were the guys that Finn, and thus Kurt, trusted with the mission to bring back Lady Brittany safely.

* * *

Kurt had been sitting with his father for a few long moments, just telling him about his day, the way he had when he was a small child, when Brother David knocked on the open door and asked, "May I come in, Your Highness? The Bishop has asked me to pray for the king."

"Then by all means," Kurt replied, trying to keep his animosity toward the man in check and giving the guard behind him a significant look, "come in. Far be it from me to interfere with the Bishop's wishes."

David nodded and sat down right next to Kurt, which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but the prince couldn't figure out how to move away politely. Plus, he was at his father's bedside. If anyone should back off it was David.

The monk said his prayers and was getting up before he turned to Kurt and asked, "Oh, by the way, do you know where Lord Blaine disappeared to? I had some scripture I wanted to show him."

Holding back a mocking chuckle, Kurt coolly told David about Blaine's "ailing grandfather," and he could tell that the clergyman suspected the story right away, even though Kurt dissembled with grace and a considerable amount of talent.

Frowning, David asked, "What did he tell you, prince? Did he…?"

"My discussions with foreign nobles are a matter of state, Brother David," Kurt replied, squeezing his father's hand for that little bit of strength he could give in his unconscious state, "not a matter for the Church."

Through gritted teeth, Brother David said, "Of course," but then he leaned forward and hissed, "You even try anything, prince, and your precious wife is  _dead_."

"Good to see you, too!" Kurt called after David as he stalked away, shivering as soon as he was out of sight. Leaning to whisper to his father, Kurt said, "I really hate that man. Couldn't you wake up, Father? For me? Come on. I don't believe in Brother David's gods or Noah's God or any other gods, but I believe in you. I believe in us, you and me and Finn."

Two minutes later, when one of Burt's fingers twitched, Kurt thought he was imagining things.

Then it happened again.

* * *

Dalton was a strange place, Noah decided. Everyone seemed to wear the Anderson family colors – blue and red – even the lay people working in the village around the keep. Blaine brought them in disguised in the same clothing and Noah felt like he was going to pass out until he loosened the scrap of silk around his neck, which seemed to be the fashion for all men in this place.

"Come this way," Blaine said, leading them into a servant's entrance of the keep. "We'll be safe here for a few hours. I'm going to go find my father and-"

"Are you sure he doesn't know about Brittany being forced here?" Noah asked, disliking the idea of bringing another person in on the plan. "He might be working with your Bishop and Lady Sue to keep Brittany hidden. If you go-"

"My gods," Blaine replied, his eyes wide as he met Noah's gaze. "I never thought of that. I know he would cooperate with a simple request to house two women if the Church asked him to. But keeping them prisoner as well? He couldn't be involved in that part, could he?"

Sam cleared his throat and looked at both of them through his long, blonde bangs, "Until we know otherwise, we don't involve anyone else that we don't absolutely need to, alright?"

Blaine nodded and thought for a moment before saying, "There's a friend I trust completely and a good man. His name is Wes and he's a monk in the church just across the town, despite his rather outspoken opinions against the Church. He would be able to find out where Brittany's being held."

"Then we'll go talk to him," Sam nodded, standing up and straightening his disguise casually like he was used to wearing it already. Noah followed along obediently, glad at least Sam knew what to do, because he was in way over his head here.

* * *

Burt woke up to his wife and sons staring down at him like he was about to dissolve at any second. "Honey?" Carole asked softly, brushing his cheek. "Can you hear me?"

Trying to speak, but finding his voice gone after however many days of disuse, Burt nodded and coughed. Clearing his throat a few times, he asked, "Where's that rat, Figgins?"

"Just outside, Father," Finn replied, taking Burt's hand and giving him a cautionary look. "He wants to pay his respects now that you're recovering."

Motioning his son closer, and then bringing Kurt in as well, Burt whispered, "I've been hearing everything that goes on in this room, boys, for at least five or six days. You'll want to arrest Figgins for treason, right now."

"He said something to you?" Kurt gasped, pursing his lips in that way he always did when he was displeased.

"Got his whole confession up here," Burt replied, tapping his temple. "And get Lord Evans and Ambassador Chang to the Throne Room as well. They'll be able to testify that I wasn't dreaming it all up."

Finn nodded and left to give the orders while Kurt stayed to help Burt sit up and held a cup of water to his lips. Whispering, Kurt sniffed, "Thank you, Father, for coming back to us."

"Sure thing, kiddo," Burt replied, smiling as both his wife and his son hugged him, Bishop Figgins' protests sounding from through his bedchamber door.

* * *

"The princesses are here," Wes nodded, keeping his voice low and his hood over his head, almost hiding his face. Noah didn't like the guy one bit. "Princess Quinn gives all the orders and doesn't allow Princess Brittany to speak. I've been praying for guidance."

"Well we're here instead," Noah scoffed, wanting to get this show on the road. "Bring us to her."

Sam shook his head and put a hand on Noah's shoulder, insisting, "We should wait for night. The longer between when we leave and when Princess Quinn realizes her prisoner is gone, the better."

"I think I should distract everyone by 'returning to the city'," Blaine suggested. "The Bishop and many of the clergy always come to the keep during a homecoming feast."

"What about foreign princesses?" Noah asked, thinking there was no way in the world this plan was going to work. "Do they come to dinner as well?"

"Given the fact that no one is supposed to know they're here – we've been told that Prince Kurt has been abusive toward his new wife and Quinn thought it better that she see her pregnancy to term in Dalton – I doubt they would make any public appearances," Wes explained, nodding sadly at Noah's angered scoff at the idea of Kurt being abusive.

"Good," Sam nodded. "Blaine distracts everyone, Wes leads the rest of us towards the princesses. We take Brittany as quietly as we can."

"Lethal force?" one of the guards asked, like it was a routine question and Noah decided that as good as he was at fighting, and as much as he liked it sometimes, he'd never want to be a professional soldier.

"What are you kidding?" Sam replied, giving Wes an apologetic little bow. "The guards are bound to be fighting  _monks_. Sub-lethal force only, may the gods help us."

"If we do this right," Wes added, "we may not need to use force at all. Stay here. I'll raid the laundry for clothing more appropriate for the task. I'm sure my fellow monks will not mind giving a few items of clothes for the cause of justice and the redemption of the Church in Lima's eyes."

"I'm sure," Noah nodded, sighing as he watched the monk go. Turning around, he saw Sam watching him, so Noah asked, "What?"

"You gotta relax, man," Sam replied, rolling his eyes when Noah made a noise of disbelief. "Yeah, I know this is important. I know Kurt's counting on us to bring Brittany back in one piece, and that might not happen. But if you go into a mission like this all wound up like you are, you're the one not making it home to Lima."

"How would you suggest I relax?" Noah scoffed, sitting on a barrel in the Church basement. "And I swear, if you mention anything about who I supposedly favor in bed, I'm gonna have to punch you."

"Just," Sam sighed, sitting down across from Noah and clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned his forearms on his knees, "do what I do. Picture your most relaxing day and keep that in your brain as best you can. See it, smell it, taste it, tell yourself you're going back there as soon as this little business is over with."

Noah closed his eyes and two different scenes came to mind. The first was playing with his sister in the sunlit castle courtyard, chasing her around as she laughed and Kurt watched with a smile on his face. The other scene was Kurt lying beneath him, skin pure silver in the moonlight from the prince's large picture window, smiling up at him and pulling him into another of a thousand kisses.

"There you go, man," Sam smiled, breaking Noah out of his reverie. "Just keep thinking about whatever you were picturing. That's the goal. Get Brittany out of here safely and get back to that."

Nodding, Noah rolled his neck and tried to let the rest of his anxious muscles relax as he pictured both scenes again. "Good goal."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Sire," Figgins said, his voice as calm and as careful as Kurt had ever heard it. "I'm sure you were just dreaming while in your incapacitated state. I never said such things. Of course I support your right to rule without Church interference. My place is only to be your moral guide…"

Kurt watched as his father's anger grew colder and colder and it made excitement well up in his chest. Clearing his throat angrily, Burt called out, "Lord Evans?"

"Yes, your highness?" Harold Evans, Sam's father and one of the major Earls of Lima, said as he stepped forward, so the rest of the court could hear him.

"Did you or did you not speak to your wife while visiting my chambers during my convalescence?"

Kurt watched as Lord Evans looked back at his very blonde wife in confusion and nodded, "I did, Sire."

"You told Mary that your daughter, Stacy, was having trouble with her dancing lessons, did you not?"

Looking more than a little shocked, Lord Evans nodded, "Yes, Your Highness."

"Is this not also true: your wife suggested a new pair of dancing shoes, to which you objected because of the cost, as all your fortune is tied up in your real estate holdings?"

"It is," Evans nodded and Kurt watched as whispers slithered through the court, from one noble to the next. Kurt understood the surprise. All indications were that the Evans family was one of the richest in Lima. To learn of their economic distress was like learning pigs had begun to fly.

Smiling at Figgins, Burt continued as he asked, "And Lord Evans, was there anyone in the room besides you, your wife, and myself?"

"No, Sire," Evans replied. "We were granted the honor of visiting you without guards, which is why I spoke of my family's money troubles. You heard me?"

"I did," Burt nodded. "I heard everything anyone said around me for the past six days. Yes, even you Ambassador Chang," Burt said, pointing to Sir Mike's father with a laugh. The Ambassador blushed and laughed as well, nodding to those around him that he knew what the king was talking about. "And I heard Bishop Figgins telling me exactly how he and my daughter-in-law Quinn conspired to bring this throne in line with the Church, ruling them as one, even though our laws and traditions strictly forbid such mixing."

Concerned mutters filled the Throne Room and Kurt almost smiled as he recognized the tide of the court's opinions shifting away from Bishop Figgins. Then biting one nail nervously, Kurt prayed that he hadn't made a mistake sending Noah to Dalton just a day before the King woke up. Burt would have been able to set everything right without putting Noah in danger and yet now there was no way to stop whatever was going on in Dalton before everything happened. Nothing to do but watch Figgins get dragged away by the guard and hope that everyone Kurt cared about came home safely.

* * *

Getting into the Princesses' quarters was easier than Noah expected and slipping past Quinn and her child – Noah's child, now that he thought about it, his heart aching for her – was too easy as well. Noah approached Brittany's bed carefully, so he wouldn't scare her, and Sam watched his back, while the other guards kept watch on their escape path. Touching Brittany's arm softly, Noah whispered, "Lady Brittany? Britt, wake up."

The woman awoke with a start and took a deep breath like she was about to scream. Noah recognized the impulse as one his little sister always used to have when he had to wake her up and get her out of the house on nights his mother turned violent, so he clapped a hand over Brittany's mouth, hissing, "Shh! Shh, it's me. It's Noah."

Brittany repeated his name as a question, her voice muffled under his hand as he kept it over her mouth for a few seconds more.

"Yeah. Kurt sent me and Sir Sam to come get you and bring you home."

When Brittany nodded, Noah let her go, surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, whispering in his ear, "She wouldn't let me bring Santana, Noah. I would have come wherever Quinn said, as long as she let Santana come too, but she wouldn't."

"You can't trust Quinn," Noah told her, helping Brittany out of the bed. "She wanted to take your and Kurt's baby away."

Britt nodded sadly and then hurried to get dressed, motioning for Noah and Sam to turn away. After a moment, she whispered, "I'm ready to go home."

"We're going home," Noah promised, taking her hand and following Sam from the room.

* * *

Kurt watched as guards took Bishop Figgins away in heavy, humiliating chains and Burt called, "Cleric Kinney?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" a monk said as he stepped forward, nervous as all the eyes of the court turned to look at him.

"It's my understanding that when the Bishop is indisposed, Brother David is in charge. Is that true?"

"It is indeed-y," the Cleric replied with an air of someone who was trying too hard to please, "but no one has seen him for the past few days. I will step up until he can be found. Services will go on as usual."

"Good," Burt nodded, giving Kurt a small smile for a reason the prince couldn't quite discern. "The people need to know that a few bad apples did not spoil the entire Church. I believe there is still good to be done, do you agree as well?"

"Of course, Sire," Kinney nodded. "The Church will make every effort to root out those working with Bishop Figgins to break the law of our great country."

"Thank you, my friend," Burt said, sighing as he looked out over the court. "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies and lords, I need my rest. Please address my son, Prince Kurt, if you have any further issues you'd like to discuss."

"Not Finn, Your Highness?" someone called and Burt shook his head.

"Finn has decided to take a position as General Beiste's second in command," Burt announced, and it was a surprise to Kurt that he hadn't heard this before. "Prince Kurt will be my successor as king. Anyone got a problem with that?"

Lords and Ladies looked at one another and the throne room became eerily silent. Kurt didn't like it at all.

* * *

"Watch out!" Brittany cried as they were hurrying down the halls of the Church monastery. Sam ducked instinctually and Noah followed right after, pulling Brittany close. A throwing knife hit one of the guards in the back with a wet, sickening thud.

Drawing his sword as he turned, Noah saw a large figure bearing down on them in the dark hallway and Brittany gave a frightened squeak. Sam got between them and the figure, hissing, "Take her and go, Noah. Get out of here!"

Noah wanted to stay and fight, but he didn't know how much help he would be and one of the guards who was still standing fell in beside Sam, their swords clashing against the monks' and breaking the stillness of the night. A third guard waved Noah forward and followed as, sword still out and held forward like Beiste had taught him, all three of them ran, Brittany holding tightly to Noah's free hand.

Someone cried out in anguish just before they turned the corner and Noah found himself hoping it wasn't Sam who had been injured and tried to hold onto that image of Kurt in his mind. They were getting home. They had to.

Noah was just pushing Brittany up onto her horse when the figure caught up to them, slashing out at Noah with a long, curved sword. Shit! He didn't know how to fight this guy!

The guard at his side blocked one blow as Noah gained his bearings and began to fight back. Actually this wasn't so bad. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and the blood rushed through his ears, but Noah held onto his memory of Kurt, letting it protect him and spur him on as he fought. Their opponent was good and he got the other guard down, injured but not killed, and turned his full attention on Noah.

"You should have just left Prince Kurt to me," he hissed and suddenly Noah recognized him as Brother David – the Brother David they had run from when they left Lima. "He was mine until you had to go and grab his attention."

Blocking another blow, Noah couldn't help but laugh, "He was never  _yours_ , monk. Kurt has always despised you. You make him sick to his stomach."

"I was working on it," David replied, dodging one of Noah's blows with a spry twirl of his monk's robes. "I would have gotten to him eventually if it wasn't for you."

"You would have tried to force yourself on him," Noah shot back, "and been hanged for it. And if you love him so much, why did you help kidnap Kurt's wife and his unborn child?"

"He doesn't need them," David insisted. "Finn's going to be king and Quinn's going to be queen. Kurt doesn't need a wife or a child or a fucking manservant!"

Noah saw an opening and went for it without thinking, stabbing David in the chest with his thin blade and dodging David's last blow. Leaning in toward the monk's shocked face (Noah thought he might be even more shocked, but he wasn't going to let it show) the servant hissed, "That's future Consort to you, buddy," and pulled his blade free.

Sam came running up to them then, his face covered in blood and his arm held tightly against his chest. "We've gotta go," he whispered, hopping up onto one of the free horses, despite his injuries. "If they find out you've spilled a monk's blood on sacred ground, Noah…!"

"Shit," he hissed, sheathing his sword and pulling himself up behind Brittany on her horse. "Let's get out of here!"

* * *

When Noah, Sam, and Brittany returned to Lima, Kurt was waiting for them on the castle steps, the scouts having spotted them half an hour before. All of them looked weary and after sharing a look with Noah, Kurt rushed forward to help his wife down, cradling her in his arms and helping her toward their rooms. Noah trailed behind them silently while Sam stayed to talk to Finn and get his injuries looked at.

Once Brittany was in Lady Santana's caring arms, Kurt kissed his wife's forehead and pulled Noah into the servant's room, hugging him tightly as soon as the doors were closed. "Thank you," he cried, letting everything go and blinking the tears so they would finally fall. "Thank you, Noah. Thank you."

Noah kissed Kurt, long and slow, and led the way to the bed, collapsing down on it like he was exhausted. "I did what you asked, my prince."

"You did," Kurt nodded, kneeling to pull off Noah's dusty boots. "You've done exactly what I've asked for and more, Noah. I can't believe of all the slaves in that market, I got lucky enough to choose you."

"Yeah?" Noah asked, as if he didn't believe it, watching as Kurt undid the buttons on his shirt one by one.

After taking his lover's shirt, Kurt nodded and leaned forward to press a simple kiss to Noah's lips. Pulling back, he smiled and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Noah Puckerman. You're a hero, you're a free man, and the Crown Prince of Lima loves you."

Noah laughed a little and raised his hips as Kurt tugged on his trousers. "May God have mercy, Babe."

"Why?"

"Because this past year has changed my life forever and this next year? This next year, I don't want anything more to change."

"It won't," Kurt promised, laying down next to his lover and running a hand over the skin and the muscles that he'd missed so much while they were gone. "A hundred years from now, you'll still be with me, even if we're both dead. Tribes people believe in an afterlife, don't they?"

"Sort of," Noah replied, wrapping his arms around Kurt and holding him close. "For a hundred years with you, I'll believe anything."

"Me too," Kurt nodded, laying his head on Noah's shoulder and breathing him in, bathing in the scent that was beginning to smell like home.

* * *

Six months later, Kurt's son was born and Noah watched his lover hold the baby with this adorable look of wonder and joy painted across his face. When Kurt turned and shared a smile with Noah, it felt so good it almost hurt deep in his chest.

After a lengthy indictment process, Quinn and her child were sent back to Lima by the Dalton authorities and Finn got that divorce he'd been waiting for, happily taking custody of the child he knew was not his. Noah got to meet Beth for more than a brief glimpse here or there when she was almost a year old. He knew he couldn't really be her father, not when everyone thought she belonged to Prince Finn, but he was happy enough being able to see her whenever he wanted.

Two years – and several dozen lonely, sleepless nights – after Beth's return, Brittany gave birth to another son, who they named Burt after his recently deceased grandfather.

Six months after little Burt's christening, King Kurt and Queen Brittany's divorce finalized, while Finn married Rachel.

Three years later, after all the political moves Kurt wanted to make had been made, Kurt named Noah his Consort. As they passed a throng of both well-wishers and protesters outside the Church, Kurt paused and asked close to Noah's ear, "Do you know that woman?"

Following his King's line of sight, Noah caught a glimpse of one very familiar face in the crowd. Frowning, he let go of Kurt's arm and approached her, asking, "What are you doing here, Mother?"

"What?" she called back, above the other voices trying to get Noah's attention. "I can't go to my own son's sinful wedding?" Adding insult to injury, she spat at Noah's feet. "If I'd known this is what you'd turn into, I never would have sold you."

"Well then, I'm glad you did," Noah replied, more calmly than he thought himself capable. "And I'm not your son anymore. You gave up that right the second you signed me away."

Beside him, Kurt spoke again close in his ear, "This is too personal for the crowd to know, love. Just let her be and come home with me?"

Nodding, Noah gave his mother one last look, told her, "Sarah's fine, by the way," and turned back to his King, following the man who owned his heart down the rest of the Church stairs and into their private carriage.

Kurt held him close and stroked his hair and whispered, "I'm glad she sold you, too. It means I've got the family I've always wanted."

Noah sighed and nodded, pushing away thoughts of his estranged mother and focusing on letting himself be happy, despite her.

* * *


End file.
